<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>the ass in assassin by mikunadia</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022549">the ass in assassin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikunadia/pseuds/mikunadia'>mikunadia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Akamatsu Kaede Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, At least....for now....hee hee, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Multi, Novelization, Spoilers, less about the mystery more about the characters, no beta we die like kaito, the maki protag story no one asked for, truth vs lies? no silly it's trust vs doubt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:27:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikunadia/pseuds/mikunadia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Momota Kaito is the first victim.<br/>When Harukawa Maki sees his body, she feels nothing. </p><p>(in which harukawa maki is the protagonist, and nothing goes according to plan)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akamatsu Kaede &amp; Shirogane Tsumugi &amp; Yonaga Angie, Akamatsu Kaede/Shirogane Tsumugi, Amami Rantaro &amp; Harukawa Maki &amp; Oma Kokichi, Amami Rantaro &amp; Shinguji Korekiyo, Amami Rantaro/Harukawa Maki, Gokuhara Gonta/Hoshi Ryoma, Harukawa Maki &amp; Iruma Miu, Hoshi Ryoma &amp; Saihara Shuichi, Iruma Miu/K1-B0, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. ch1 - introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey fam let's see if i finish this lmao</p><p>i've been watching a ton of v3 playthroughs lately (one of my favorite gaming yters has been playing it) and then i had the wonderful thought of "gee, what if kaito just straight up died before he could help anyone?" and then i thought "wouldn't it be funny if the people who trusted others the least ended up being friends?" and now here we are.  maki is my girl and i WILL do her justice.  i'm having a TON of fun with this, hope y'all will too.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Momota Kaito is the first victim. </p><p>When Harukawa Maki sees his body, she feels nothing. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>After all, why would she? It's not like she knew who he was. He was loud and abrasive and not the kind of person she found joy in being near for long periods of time. Sure, it sucked that he died. Would've been better if he hadn't. But she's not losing her mind over it like some of the others. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe she's too desensitized. It's odd to her that people are crying over this stranger. </p><p> </p><p>He's hunched over the table in the game room. Everything had been fine one minute, and the next he was coughing and coughing and coughing, barely audible over the blaring music, and then it was quiet. Silent all at once, the monitor dark again, as the blood pooled beneath his head, spilling out of his mouth like a pipe leak. </p><p> </p><p>Chabashira screamed the loudest. Harukawa is sure other people screamed too, but it was hers that stuck out the most. Soon after, a little chime played over the monitor, and Monokuma's grinning face informed them of the worst: that Momota Kaito was definitely, definitely dead. </p><p> </p><p>Harukawa is experienced enough in the art of murder to be able to tell when people are acting odd around it. After all, it's something she had broken out of her - once upon a time, she was the shifty girl, looking over her shoulders at everyone to hope that no one saw the blood on her hands that no longer existed, as if it stained her like glow in the dark paint. She sees that girl in Akamatsu now, which is weird, because Akamatsu poisoning Momota is weird. Of course, she doesn't really care who did it or why, but Akamatsu gained everyone's trust. It's...gross of her, to pull something like that. Maybe that was hypocritical of Harukawa, but she's certainly the last person to vouch for herself. </p><p> </p><p>Amami has a similar shade of nervous about him, but he always seems to jump at shadows, as if something yet nothing all at once were eating at his soul alive as he walked. It's a guilty look across his face, but not in the same way. It's still weird. But Harukawa doesn't see the blood on his hands, doesn't feel the sticky stains, while Akamatsu rubs her hands against the edge of her skirt fabric to chase it away.</p><p> </p><p>And so, they investigate.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa doesn’t do much.  Doing too much draws too many eyes.  People have eyes on Akamatsu, on her pet detective, on Ouma, and on Gokuhara.  The people who are the loudest.  Had Momota not been resting in a pool of his own blood, he would’ve been there too.  If Harukawa spoke up, even slightly, those eyes would land on her, and then they’d question why a glorified babysitter knows a tad bit too much about poison.  It’s almost worse that she’s not the blackened, because even after Momota’s killer has hit the graves along with him, those eyes will rake her up and down and eventually she’ll be down in the ground along with them.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa Maki may be an assassin, and she may be the best of her kind, but death is one of her least favorite things.</p><p> </p><p>So she does virtually nothing.  She pretends to look around and people don’t question her, outside of her alibi.  She’s a suspect, sure, but only because she was in the same room as the body.  So she gives them the truth and shuffles away, pretending like anything she does may possibly matter, watching quietly from the background as Akamatsu’s shaky voice proclaims too much of everything and too much nothing, echoing against the walls.  Harukawa scans the room, and sees a few people like her: Hoshi, whose eyes are distant, elsewhere; Amami, fidgeting with his shirt, his rings, his pants, and anything else that he happens to grab; Ouma, who’s pretending to look at Momota’s body as he glares at Tojo, and aforementioned, whose eyes are trained on the teacup that spilt to the ground with Momota’s blood.</p><p> </p><p>It’s obvious who the culprit is.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Saihara is ever the detective, examining every nook and cranny while nipping at Akamatsu’s heels.  They talk to every person, they look at every corner of the room, and at one point, Saihara’s brow furrows beneath his cap and he leads Akamatsu out of the room.  A few people trickle out to follow, or maybe to go look at something else, but Harukawa leaves to get some air.  She knows who did it, so no one’s going to die, and if any of them have brain cells, they’ll know who did it, too.  </p><p> </p><p>But when she leaves the room, she sees Amami trail into the library, and she can’t help but feel curious.</p><p> </p><p>When she enters the library, he’s at the back, staring at a bookshelf as if it has the answers.  It obviously doesn’t, but she waits for it to move as if it may; it never does.  And neither does Amami, that is, until a light flashes to his right.</p><p> </p><p>All of the alarms in her system go off as he turns to meander towards it--</p><p> </p><p>“What an interesting place to be investigating.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami <em> jumps </em> , startled and looking like a sheet.  He only looks worse when his eyes land on Harukawa, and she feels almost like a predator hunting down prey.  It makes her feel <em> gross </em>.  She scowls.</p><p> </p><p>He laughs it off hardly a moment later, a hand swinging behind his head, fidgeting with his hair or his neck or his something.  “Figured it would be worth a shot to check it out.  Haven’t found anything, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“I noticed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” he says breezily, the tremor behind his voice still there, if only faintly, yet covered in an accusatory darkness,  “I didn’t hear you come in.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been told I’m quiet,” she says, and it’s not a lie.  She steps forwards.  “What was that flash?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami hesitates as she gets closer - so guilty, so paranoid, so <em> what? </em> - but he eventually turns around to its general area and nods to it.  “I don’t know.  Haven’t had the chance to look yet.”  He turns back to her.  “Do you think it’s part of the case?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.  But it wouldn’t hurt to look.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami nods.  And they go look.  It’s a camera, set to flash, and it goes off again as they step closer.  Aggravated, Harukawa grabs it and rips off the tape as soon as they get close enough.  She holds it up, and each of her harsh movements make it click, again and again and again.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a sensor,” Amami points out.  “A motion sensor camera.  I didn’t know there were any of those.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe Iruma made them,” Harukawa mumbles, giving the camera another once-over as it clicks again.  The door bursts open after that, and in run Akamatsu and her pet detective.  Harukawa and Amami turn around as they turn the corner, and both parties freeze for a moment, tension palpable from even across the way.  She and him, her and he, and silence.  Amami stiffens.</p><p> </p><p>Saihara’s jaw sets.  <em> That look </em> flashes across his face, the one of guilt, as his eyes land on the camera.  He looks like it might suffocate him, the guilt, and his face darkens below his hat brim.  Yet, the stains aren’t on his hands either.  No blood, just the uncrushable look of a child getting their hand caught in the cookie jar.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu, however.  </p><p> </p><p>“What’s the rush?”  Harukawa says smoothly, the only person unphased.  “Is something wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu’s eyes flick up and they meet, for a moment.  Harukawa doesn’t know what Akamatsu was planning, but the fact that she planned <em> something </em> blares clear through the contact.  </p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu swallows thickly, a terrible liar.</p><p> </p><p>“N-no, nothing,” Saihara stumbles, his eyes staring at the brim of his shoes.  “W-we just, u-um--”</p><p> </p><p>“We figured that maybe the culprit hid something in here, since it’s right next door to the game room!” Akamatsu declares.  She’s looking sturdier, but she’s still a terrible liar.  It reads all over her face that something’s wrong, with the way her eye twitches and her brows furrow down and her shoulders stiffen into her neck.  “It hit me so suddenly while we were upstairs that I ran to action!  Sorry for startling you guys!”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa hums, noncommittal.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, someone put something here,” Amami says, voice still breezy, but frigidly cold.  He gently plucks the camera out of Harukawa’s hands, showing it off to the newcomers.  Akamatsu manages to stay unmoving, but Saihara’s pale and looks like he’s on the verge of vomiting.  Both of them have their eyes on the camera, for a moment, and then Saihara’s eyes quickly dart to Akamatsu, and back again.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa matches the motion, a little lazier, towards Amami.  Amami’s eyes are on Akamatsu - it seems he’s piecing it together, too.  Maybe this case was muddier than she expected after all.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s so weird,” Akamatsu says at last.  “I wonder who would put cameras in here?”</p><p> </p><p>“With the flash on, no less,” Amami says.</p><p> </p><p>Saihara, for the first time since they met, looks up and makes eye contact with someone - in this case, Amami.  “The flash?  It had the flash on?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami nods.  “I don’t think I would’ve noticed it otherwise.  Harukawa can vouch for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami’s eyes meet hers, and Harukawa wordlessly raises her eyebrows.  She shrugs, turning away from Amami to Saihara.  Ever the surpriser this evening, Saihara meets her eyes readily, hungrily, <em> desperately </em>, and Harukawa enables the enthusiasm with her answer.  “Yeah, I saw it too.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s--” Saihara stops, his brows furrowing again as the gears in his head turn.  “That’s odd.”  Silence permeates the atmosphere.  “Is that all you guys found here?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami nods again.  “Thought maybe the killer woulda left something here...like you guys.  I guess we were right.  You have good intuition, Akamatsu.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu laughs tonelessly.  “Thanks.  It’s nothing special.  Um--do you need any help investigating?  Maybe we could scope the place better as a group--”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s fine,” he easily cuts her off, voice sharp.  “You guys have been doing a lot.” Amami shoves one of his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly against the bookcase behind them.  “It’s only <em> fair </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“R-right,” Akamatsu says, stumbling, clearing her throat again.  “We’ll leave you to it, then!”  Her hand wraps against Saihara’s wrist, giving a slight tug, and then she starts walking.  Saihara follows, but his eyes dart to the camera again as they disappear behind the rows of bookshelves.</p><p> </p><p>Until the door to the library opens and closes once again, Harukawa and Amami stand in silence.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think it’s one of them?”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara is barely listening, his head muddled with far too many thoughts.  The flash.  <em> The flash </em> .  The flash shouldn’t have been on.  The flash couldn’t have <em> remained </em> on, unless someone was pressing down the button, so that meant the flash being on <em> had </em> to have been purposeful.  But what if they were lying?  What if Amami pulled that out of nowhere and Harukawa just went along with it?  What if both of them killed Momota, pinned it on Tojo, and--</p><p> </p><p>“Saihara?”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara jolts out of his thoughts, looking up at Akamatsu.  His eyes meet hers for a moment, and instead of the fluttering his chest used to get at looking at her sunshine smile, his stomach <em> drops </em> , plummeting to the ground.  If the flash really was on, if Amami and Harukawa really were telling the truth (which, Occam's Razor, honestly), then that meant Akamatsu purposefully turned on the flash.  That meant Akamatsu went against their plan, had a plan of her own, and said nothing about it.  Saihara inwardly curses himself for not urging them to do a more thorough investigation of the library - he had just been so wrapped up in the stupid camera, in Akamatsu, in their plan and the bookshelf and the <em> mastermind-- </em></p><p> </p><p>“S-sorry,” he says, looking down at his shoes.  “I’m just, um, d-distracted.  What were you saying?”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu frowns and stops walking.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she says quietly, looking at him with so much kindness and tenderness.  It makes him sick.</p><p> </p><p>He tries to speak.  He can’t.  His throat is tight, painful, as if he’s being strangled.  So he closes his mouth and nods, squeezing her arm gently.  She looks down the motion, then back at him, trying to chase the eye contact he refuses to give.</p><p> </p><p>She sighs.  “If you’re sure.”</p><p> </p><p>She lets go of his arm and he of hers.  The two walk in silence, alone in the halls, with nothing left to investigate.  It was a clean crime, for the most part.  No major clues.</p><p> </p><p>“So do you think it’s one of them?”  Akamatsu repeats.  Saihara, actually listening, shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>“No.  I think I have a good idea of who killed Momota.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t mean Momota’s killer,” Akamatsu says, quieter.  <em> Oh. </em>   To be fair, it is odd that Amami and Harukawa would be in the library.  And they never gave their reasons for being there, just copied the lie that Akamatsu gave.  Saihara hadn’t considered the possibility of two masterminds before.  But thinking like that only led to a spiral of <em> what if everyone except him is in on it? </em>  Until he remembers Momota, face down, choking on his own blood as it flooded the game room floors.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s...definitely possible,” Saihara admits.  “Amami’s talent being a mystery is suspicious.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe...he was trying to kill Harukawa?  Maybe Harukawa discovered him trying to enter the bookshelf, or vice versa--”</p><p> </p><p>“They were looking at the cameras,” Saihara says, trying not to sound accusatory, and failing by the way Akamatsu flinches.  “Neither of them would stand to gain something from killing someone right before the class trial...and the first blood perk is only offered to the <em> first, </em> so it’s not like that could be it.  They probably just...went together to have alibis.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess that makes sense,” Akamatsu says, sounding small.  “It’s a little weird Monokuma didn’t say anything about the first blood perk, either.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess the blackened was supposed to say something to him.  Considering that we’re investigating, though…”</p><p> </p><p>“They didn’t take it,” Akamatsu finishes.  “How cruel...to kill Momota, and then force all of us to go through the trial…!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Saihara mumbles, the camera’s flash swimming through his head again, screaming the questions he didn’t want to hear, “how cruel.”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“So,” Amami says, once the door closes, “what brings <em> you </em> to the library?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa looks to him.  The guilt that had been so obviously colored in all of his movements was dissipated now, as if he brought up a wall to cover it all up.  He’s leaning against the bookshelf, still, investigating the camera from earlier, turning it around in his hands.  There’s nothing to see, so she has no idea why he’s doing it, but the defensive paranoia he’s clearly exuding answers that well enough.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa can relate to the sentiment.  She, however, is a much better liar.</p><p> </p><p>“I saw you go in,” she says bluntly, monotone and blank-faced as if she wasn’t analyzing every part of his body language.  “It was suspicious.  No one else had been in here yet, and the crime occured in a different room.”</p><p> </p><p>“The room was practically next door,” he says without missing a beat.  “Akamatsu wasn’t wrong; it’s very likely the killer hid something in here.”</p><p> </p><p><em> But she was bullshiting </em> goes unsaid, yet is heard loud and clear by both parties.  Harukawa cocks a brow, and that perfectly exudes the equally unsaid <em> and so are you. </em></p><p> </p><p>“That’s why Akamatsu was here, yes,” <em> no </em> , “but that doesn’t explain why <em> you’re </em> here.”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs, and tosses the camera back to her, pushing himself off of the wall.  “I’ve said it already.  If you don’t want to believe me, that’s your prerogative.”</p><p> </p><p><em> When you act like that, I </em> can’t <em> believe you </em>, Harukawa thinks, frowning slightly as she catches the camera.  Knowing it has nothing else for her, she sets it aside, stepping out into the library.  Despite the fact that she didn’t technically agree to investigate, the library clearly holds secrets that Akamatsu would rather kept hidden.  Regardless of whether or not they were involved in the actual crime, it wouldn’t hurt to find the truth.</p><p> </p><p>Wordlessly, she and Amami began investigating the library.  The first few moments are relatively fruitless, as there was too much yet nothing of note, until Amami lightly hums.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” Harukawa says, turning around.  He holds up another camera.</p><p> </p><p>“No tape on the flash this time,” he says before she can ask the question.  “Which makes it weirder that the other one had it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think there are more cameras?”</p><p> </p><p>“Definitely.  Not sure where they’d be, though.”  He sighs.  “I really don’t wanna look through all of these bookshelves.”</p><p> </p><p>“I doubt we have the time for that.”  Harukawa quickly scans the room, seeing nothing of note.  She huffs, hands on her hips, and then looks up, seeing the books arranged in a wall, with one at the opening, tipping downwards.</p><p> </p><p>The assassin instinct alarm bells start going off.</p><p> </p><p>Her gaze lingers on the single book, eyes squinting.  Slowly, she trails her eyes downwards, landing square in the opening where the first camera, with the flash, was set up.  The bells ring louder as her eyes widen, and everything starts clicking together all at once.</p><p> </p><p>She whips around, eyes landing on the rolling ladder, and hurries over to it.  That alerts Amami, but by the time he turns around, she’s already halfway up.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, you’re fast,” he mutters, lightly jogging over himself.  He stops a respectful distance away, so as not to get a glimpse of things he shouldn’t.  “Did you find something up there?”</p><p> </p><p>“One thing, definitely,” she says, grabbing the third camera of the evening, one she didn’t even notice.  “Another one of these.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can you toss it down?”</p><p> </p><p>She frowns.  “Only if you can catch it.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs airly - not quite genuine, but not quite fake.  “I’m not gonna drop the evidence, I promise.”  She rolls her eyes, and tosses it down.  He somehow manages to catch it with ease, and then begins examining it himself.  While he busies himself with that, her eyes land back on the tipped book.</p><p> </p><p>From the new angle, she can see behind the wall of books, if only somewhat, and it’s very, <em> very </em> flat.  Books lying open on their sides, creating a ramp.  Her eyes follow the wall as it wraps around the library, until it hits the vent - the grate is clearly loose, propped enough that if something applied any pressure from the inside, it would open.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” she mutters to herself.  She glances back down the ladder to Amami, who is looking up at her again.  His eyes are feigning ignorance, as if they’re not asking so many questions all at once, and she momentarily debates on telling him what she’s found.  Or, at least, how much of what she’s found.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you find anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa opens her mouth, closes it, and descends the ladder, opting to deflect.  “Not sure.  You tell me.”</p><p> </p><p>When she gets to the bottom, she steps off, gesturing for him to take her place.  He looks at the ladder, and then looks at her - it’s a different look this time, and it makes her skin twist a bit, because it’s almost <em> lacking </em> the paranoia - and then hands her the camera.</p><p> </p><p>Their hands brush for a moment, and Harukawa has never felt more uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll let you know if I see anything,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>“Well duh,” she spits.  “We don’t have all day, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite the harshness of her tone, his head tilts just a bit to the side, and he offers the smallest and slightest of smiles.  He turns to the ladder, just like she had, and climbs.  And as he does, Harukawa pushes away any and all thoughts about how differently he had looked at her for that moment and focuses on the camera.</p><p> </p><p>(and fails.)</p><p> </p><p>Amami takes a moment to examine the library from the top, but he stills when he reaches the spot and gasps quietly when it all clicks together.  He looks back down to her, and she looks up to him - his eyes dart back over to the contraption, and then back, and he frowns.</p><p> </p><p>“You...found that too, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.  Pair that with the camera’s flash…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a murder machine,” Amami mumbles, growing pale.  “And if I’d found this before Momota died…”</p><p> </p><p>“Paints a new light to Akamatsu and Saihara showing up, huh?” Harukawa deadpans.</p><p> </p><p>Amami gapes.  “Yeah...it totally does.  Who do you think--”</p><p> </p><p>“Akamatsu’s gotten it written on her face.”  Amami begins to descend the ladder as Harukawa rambles.  “Pretending to have everyone’s best interest at heart, and then take the first blood perk and run?  Really shallow of her.”</p><p> </p><p>When Amami gets to the bottom, he turns to face Harukawa, leaning against the ladder, brows furrowed as he stares at the camera in her hands.  “Saihara seemed really concerned about the flash more than anything else.  Do you think he knew about the cameras at least?  But why would they--”</p><p> </p><p>He stops himself short, his mouth hanging open for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” he hurriedly finishes.  “He just clearly didn’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa says nothing, studying Amami. His fingers are drumming against his arm as he stares at the bookshelf yet again, as if it holds the answers they’re missing.  She looks to it, then to where the cameras were placed, and thinks, for a moment, that she’s definitely missing something about that bookshelf.</p><p> </p><p>How cheesy would it be if it opened?  Like in those mystery novels, where the evil lair of the villain lay only a book pull away?</p><p> </p><p>At her silence, Amami looks back to her, and she looks back to him.  He’s silent for a moment, studying her face, looking almost...uncertain.  Just as he opens his mouth to say something, the monitor dings, and they’re both torn away from...whatever was about to happen.</p><p> </p><p>Monokuma’s face grins at them again, and before he even says it, they know their time’s up.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The trial room is dark and equally tense.  The lights from their respective podiums illuminate their faces, and everyone looks washed out and grim.  For the most part, at least; a few of them, Ouma and Shinguji, specifically, look relatively unphased.  Harukawa is sure she’s part of that group as well.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu, grimacing and tough, is leading the discussion.  They go over who was in the game room, accuse every single one, but they’re all able to vouch for each other.  No one did anything to Momota when they were in the room.  He didn’t eat anything suspicious, just picked a drink from the drink tray they’d received from Tojo.  Tojo, they learned quickly, sent out drinks to everyone in the academy as a sort of final toast - she delivered them herself.  </p><p> </p><p>“Tojo,” Amami says, speaking up for the first time.  “Did you find everyone?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head, and Amami’s eyes, for a moment, dart to Harukawa, who’s only a few podiums down.  “I was not able to find Saihara and Akamatsu,” Tojo says evenly, ever graceful, even on the brink of being pinned for a crime.  “They were not in their rooms, nor the dining room.  They never announced where they were going.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah!” Akamatsu piped up.  “Right, sorry about that!  Saihara and I were in an empty classroom together!  We were both really freaked out, so we decided to do what we could to chill out, you know?”  She laughs to herself a bit at the last part.  She’s much more composed; she must have rehearsed this.  “Right, Saihara?”</p><p> </p><p>Eyes turn to Saihara, who’s staring at the podium, looking ever so troubled.</p><p> </p><p>“Saihara?”</p><p> </p><p>He jolts up, looking over in the general direction of Akamatsu.  He tugs his hat down, his hand visibly shaking.  “O-oh, um, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami glances over to Harukawa again.  Harukawa has been silent, trying to avoid bringing attention to herself, trying not to paint a target, but the walking green-haired suspicious sign is trying to use eye contact to ask for permission to rope her in.  It’s a pain.  It’s something she should dissuade.  She shouldn’t be demonizing anyone for wanting to kill.</p><p> </p><p>Yet...the way they all looked to a liar like the sun gnawed at her gut.</p><p> </p><p>She exhales through her nose, and subtly nods.  And that was all Amami needed.</p><p> </p><p>“An empty classroom?” Amami says, sarcasm blaring like a siren, “I didn’t know that’s what we were calling the library these days.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu’s face falls just as chaos breaks.</p><p> </p><p>“Library?  Akamatsu and Saihara went to library?”</p><p>“What could they possibly be doing there?”</p><p>“A twist like this?  What a bother…”</p><p>“But Momota was killed in the game room?”</p><p>“How are you so sure?  You were in the game room, shit for brains!”</p><p>“I bet that degenerate talked her into it!”</p><p>“Did they poison Momota together?  Can you even do that?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa remains silent, eyes pointed on Akamatsu like daggers.</p><p> </p><p>“Amami, what are you talking about?” Akamatsu tries, reaching and grasping for nothing.  “I--we--were never in the library.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you see us there?” she almost snaps back, anger flashing across her face.  Desperate.  Paranoid.  <em> Guilty. </em>  Akamatsu’s hands slide across the podium and they grip the edge, wiping away the blood that doesn’t exist.  “Did you leave the game room?”</p><p> </p><p>“The degenerate mentioned that he was going to,” Chabashira sniffs, “but he didn’t get a chance to because of the murder.”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara nods.  “That true!  Amami never left game room!”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t see you there, no” Amami says breezily, ever the windy sort of guy, “but that doesn’t mean you weren’t there.  After all, no one knew where you were the entire time, and there was no one outside of the game room.  You had plenty of time to enter the library.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your argument’s on hypotheticals!” Akamatsu says back.  “Why does it even matter if we were anyway?  Momota was murdered in the game room!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami’s head tilts, face dark and eyes like ice, “It mattered when you and Saihara went to the library at the end of the investigation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh oh?  Kaede and Shuichi went to the library?” Yonaga’s eyes light up.  “But they said they didn’t!  God sees Rantaro’s point!”</p><p> </p><p>“We didn’t go to the library <em> before </em> the investigation,” Akamatsu corrects.  “Saihara and I were in a classroom together, talking.  That’s all!  Just because we investigated it, doesn’t mean that we were--”</p><p> </p><p>“But you didn’t investigate it,” Amami corrects.  “Harukawa and I did.”</p><p> </p><p>And inevitably, eyes roll over to Harukawa for comment.  She folds her arms as though it will shield her from the gazes of her classmates.  It doesn’t.  She sighs.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.  We found a lot of stuff there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stuff that had to have been set up either during or before the murder,” Amami adds.  The eyes return to him, and Harukawa releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.  “There were things in that room that weren’t there the first few days we were here, which means they had to have been added recently.”</p><p> </p><p>“Things?” Shirogane says.  “What kind of things?”</p><p> </p><p>“Three cameras,” Amami replies.  “All placed in different spots - two among the bookshelves, one above them.  One of the ones in the bookshelf had tape over the flash, which is how I noticed it.”</p><p> </p><p>“They had some sort of motion sensor,” Harukawa adds.  The eyes return to her, and she tenses, but follows through.  “The flash went off when we moved near it.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji adjusts his hat.  “So you and Amami entered the room together?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami opens his mouth to answer, but Harukawa beats him to it.  “Yes.  We left the game room at about the same time.  Amami was curious about the library, so I offered to go with him.  You know,” she looks to Amami, “just in case.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami looks at her, stunned - the moment doesn’t last long, and he turns back to Shinguji and nods.  Harukawa’s eyes start to follow, but she catches the gaze of Ouma from across the way - pointed on her with an eyebrow raised.  His arms are swung up and behind his neck, looking effortlessly casual, save for the glint in his eye and the smirk on his lips.</p><p> </p><p><em> He knows </em>.  Harukawa stares him down, daring him to call her out, but he never does.</p><p> </p><p>“Which reminds me,” Amami starts again, turning instead to Iruma, who is looking almost as frightened as Saihara beside her, “Iruma, do you know about these cameras?  You seem like the only person capable of--”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“They fuckin’ set me up, okay?!” Iruma shouts, looking like a frightened bunny.  “I didn’t kill anyone!  Bakamatsu got on her knees and started beggin’ about the cameras, and I got all fuckin’ hot and bothered because of it--”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, go back,” Keebo says, “You’re saying Akamatsu requested the cameras?”</p><p> </p><p>Props to Akamatsu, as she was clearly doing her best to stay calm.  Her hands fly off the podium and she waves them in the air.  “No, guys, please, I have a reason--”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes!  It was her and Shyhara!  They fuckin’ pressured me into it!  Peer pressure, real pressure, pressure at the base of my spine--!”</p><p> </p><p>“If Akamatsu and Saihara requested the cameras from Iruma, and the cameras were in the library, then--”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Akamatsu and Saihara were in the library,” Amami says cooly, looking down on Akamatsu.  “Would you look at that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tenko bets it was that degenerate male!” Chabashira screeches, and Saihara lowers his hat more, looking near close to tears as he shakes and shakes and <em> shakes </em>, “Tenko bets he forced poor Akamatsu into it!  There’s no way someone as lovely as her could--”</p><p> </p><p>“Guys!”  Akamatsu yells, looking thoroughly defeated.  She pushes at her white sleeves (and the imaginary blood stains them too), her face looking a little dewy.  “It’s not Saihara’s fault.  We just--we had this <em> plan </em>, and we couldn’t tell anyone about it--”</p><p> </p><p>(A few murmurs about <em> trust </em>echo the courtroom.  From whom they originate, Harukawa has no idea, but the message is loud and clear to the leader of the group, who’s beginning to match her partner in shaking.)</p><p> </p><p>“A <em> plan </em>,” Amami says evenly.  “And what kind of plan was that?”</p><p> </p><p>At that, Akamatsu meets his gaze equally, with passion and desperation burning like fire inside of it.  “A plan to end the killing game.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s silent for a moment as they stare at each other - Akamatsu, from her podium in the middle of the circle, and Amami, from his among the class.  He takes it for what it is: a blow, and a low one at that, referencing his argument with Hoshi.  His eyes narrow and he almost scowls, looking down at her with what could possibly be labeled as contempt.</p><p> </p><p>It’s going to get ugly, and they’re going to get off-track.</p><p> </p><p>“Saihara,” Harukawa says, cutting through the tension like a knife to her victims, “what was your plan?”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu is snapped from her reverie and she looks to Harukawa.  “It’s fine, don’t involve him.  I can tell you--”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Harukawa snaps.  “I want to hear it from him.”</p><p> </p><p>The courtroom falls silent again, and everyone looks over to Saihara.  Harukawa almost feels bad.  The poor thing is shaking like a leaf, gripping one hand on the brim of his hat and the other on the edge of the podium.  His knuckles, the ones against the podium, are white from the tension, and faintly she wonders how the hell he hasn’t passed out yet.</p><p> </p><p>“Saihara,” Akamatsu says indignantly, finally, as her podium slides back into place and his takes hers, “you don’t have to--”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s...there’s this...d-door,” Saihara nearly whispers, voice quiet and terrified.  “I-in the library.  I...I f-found it, u-um, e-earlier in the week. It’s not...on the monopads.  I...I...I didn’t know who to t-tell, wasn’t sure who to trust, I…”  he’s almost gasping for breath now, crushed under all of the pressure, “I thought...m-maybe, it might mean...the person r-running this was...one of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“WHAT?!” Iruma shrieks.  “One of you fuckers is the reason we’re stuck here?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Nyeh...whoever it is, you’d do best to confess now...before I unleash my magic on you!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’d better do that!  Yumeno’s magic is super strong and powerful!”</p><p> </p><p>“That still doesn’t explain the plan,” Shinguji says through the muck.  “Would you care to elaborate on that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Th-the plan!  The plan was my idea!” Akamatsu declares.  “After he told me, I came up with the idea to--”</p><p> </p><p>“I--” Saihara starts, just loud enough to silence Akamatsu, and takes a deep breath, “I told Akamatsu.  A-and then...I suggested the plan.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu is displaying a new emotion across her features: hurt.  “Saihara…?”</p><p> </p><p>“T-to get to the door, you have to...move the b-bookshelf.  We...decided on motion sensor cameras.  I-Iruma provided.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t fuckin’ think they’d be used for murder!” Iruma shrieks.  “You owe me a fuckin’ apology, Shithara!”</p><p> </p><p>“I-it wasn’t murder!” Saihara declares, almost shouting back in response.  “The p-plan...the plan was t-to catch the mastermind opening the bookshelf!  The c-cameras had a receiver, s-so we were alerted when they went off!”</p><p> </p><p>“Which explains why you guys showed up when the cameras went off during the investigation,” Harukawa says, nodding.  “What were you planning to do when you found the mastermind?”</p><p> </p><p>“I-if we missed them, w-we could develop the pictures.  If we didn’t…”</p><p> </p><p>He trails off.  His shoulders scrunch together.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was a long shot, but a plain shot nonetheless…” Shirogane says, face sympathetic.</p><p> </p><p>“I am confused about something, however,” Keebo interjects.  “I understand how the motion sensor cameras played an integral part in the plan.  But I do not understand the purpose of the flash being on one of the cameras, as Amami stated.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara’s hand drops from the hat brim, and lands on the podium.</p><p> </p><p>“Th-that.  Is because.  It…” he gulps, and takes a deep breath in.  He knows.  He knows, and he doesn’t want to, but he does, and he says anyway:  “It wasn’t <em> part </em> of the plan.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oooh!  I get it, I get it!”  Ouma hopped up and down in place, raising his hand.  “So Saihara created this whoooole plot to <em> maybe </em> scold the mastermind a little bit if those two caught them, and Akamatsu was <em> tooootally </em> put off but the fact that Saihara couldn’t beat the heck outta the mastermind, and decided to take things in her own hands!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not it at all!” Akamatsu snaps.</p><p> </p><p>“Except it kinda is,” Amami shoots back.  “Saihara’s plan didn’t have enough action.  You figured you could kill the mastermind, take the first blood perk, and hightail it outta here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Speaking of the perk,” Ouma’s bouncing in place lightly as he turns to Monokuma, “what ever happened to that?”</p><p> </p><p>Monokuma laughs.  “No one asked me about it!  I’m an honest bear, you know!  If that certain someone had just <em> asked </em> about it, I woulda let them go no problemo!  But no one did, so it didn’t happen!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hell yeah!” Monokid screams.  “All the bloodlust!”</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re saying this whole trial could’ve been avoided?!” Monophanie screeches, sounding extremely distressed.  She looks as though she’s about to say something else, and then vomits instead.</p><p> </p><p>“...Someone oughta get her some meds.”  Monosuke pushes his glasses up, turning away from the vomit.</p><p> </p><p>“But...you never said anything about that when you announced the perk…!” Tojo declares, because of course the actual perp would, looking distressed and <em> extremely pissed off </em>.  Monokuma simply laughs her off.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess the killer shoulda had more initiative!” Monotaro chirps happily.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, if Gonta may,” Gokuhara says, lifting a hand up to get everyone’s attention.  “Gonta not sure how camera flash could kill mastermind.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a plain good point,” Shirogane pipes up after.  “How would Akamatsu have committed the crime without being there?”</p><p> </p><p>“W-well--” Akamatsu says, “I--”</p><p> </p><p>“It was really clever, actually,” Amami cuts her off cleanly.  “Had Harukawa not checked the top of the bookshelves, I would’ve had no idea.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu’s jaw snaps shut.</p><p> </p><p>Eyes are back on Harukawa again.  She fights back the urge to fold her arms, instead reaching to her hair to twirl at it a bit.  “Yeah.  Checked the top of the bookshelves and saw this whole contraption.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”  Keebo says, looking both intrigued and horrified.  “What was it?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa looks to Amami.  He blinks, and a moment passes before he realizes what she’s trying to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh--haha, okay,” he says, smiling at her in that weird, not-paranoid way.  He really needed to knock that shit off.  “I can tell you what it looks like.  It was a ramp of books from the vent to just above the flash camera.  Most of it was blocked by other books, that were arranged like walls, but if you got a good enough look at the angle, you could see how oddly the books were set up, and how it could clearly murder someone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow!  A Rube Goldberg machine!” Ouma says, eyes sparkling.  “Akamatsu, are you actually the real Ultimate Inventor?”</p><p> </p><p>“You little shit!  I’m right the fuck here!”</p><p> </p><p>“Did anyone hear something?  Sounded like a nasty bitch to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma squeaked in defeat.</p><p> </p><p>“If Akamatsu had dropped something heavy that rolls from the vent, it would have been able to slide down the ramp and fall out,” Harukawa explains.  “Having the camera with the sensor on flash, right below the ramp…”</p><p> </p><p>“The camera sets the receiver off,” Hoshi continues, nodding along.  “As soon as the receiver goes off, Akamatsu drops the bait, maybe from that empty classroom.  As the mastermind walks over to the camera with flash, the ball rolls over.”</p><p> </p><p>“W-wait, you guys--”</p><p> </p><p>“B-but...wouldn’t the mastermind have heard the rolling?” Chabashira asks, looking extremely uncertain.</p><p> </p><p>“Th-the video…” it’s Saihara that speaks up this time.  “The video w-was playing on the monitors.  It was already hard to hear--”</p><p> </p><p>“So it woulda been impossible for the victim!  Bakamatsu you nasty bitch!”</p><p> </p><p>“I--you guys--”</p><p> </p><p>“Akamatsu,” Saihara says, silencing the courtroom.  He looks up, finally, for the first time since the trial began.  “Is...is this true?  Did you really…”</p><p> </p><p>He trails off, unable to continue, but the question rings clearly to everyone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Did you really betray me to murder someone? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I--I just--” Akamatsu inhales, her eyes scrunching shut, “I just wanted to stop the mastermind.”</p><p> </p><p>A silence passes over the group.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyone could have walked in there,” Amami says finally, glaring at Akamatsu.  “You could’ve gotten someone seriously injured...and jump started the killing game.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Akamatsu whispers.</p><p> </p><p>Another tense moment passes.</p><p> </p><p>“So, that was fun and all,” Ouma says nonchalantly, examining his fingernails, “but are we ever gonna talk about how Tojo murdered Momota?”</p><p> </p><p>And, just like that, the courtroom descends into chaos once more.  This time, however, the chaos misses Akamatsu, and sweeps away everyone else.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Tojo’s execution is brutal.</p><p> </p><p>It starts with Saihara’s surprisingly sharp gaze and an accusatory finger in her direction, coupled with astute observations from Amami, Shinguji, and Keebo along the way.  They vote, and they’re correct.  It ends with Tojo reaching for an escape, and failing, falling and falling until she hits the ground with a sickening crunch.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa winces at her impact, tuning out the cries of her faint-hearted classmates.</p><p> </p><p>The shock of it begins to pass over the group when Akamatsu clears her throat.  Her eyes are wet and her cheeks are tear-stained, but she holds her head high and meets everyone’s gazes with grace.  Pointedly, though, she avoids Amami’s and Harukawa’s.</p><p> </p><p>“I really am sorry, everyone,” she says.  “This is all my fault.  I was too focused on trying to save everyone that I couldn’t see the consequences of my actions!  And they were far heavier consequences than I was prepared for.  I promise you all that I had only good intentions!  I never meant to cause any problems, I just wanted to--”</p><p> </p><p>“Murder is good intentions these days?” Ouma mutters to Keebo, just loud enough to be heard, elbowing him as Keebo scowls in return.  “News to me!”  Keebo swats at him.</p><p> </p><p>She inhales, and exhales, shakily.  “I’m so sorry.  I’ve failed you all.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami sighs.  “Look...what’s more important is that you realize what you did.  It’s not your fault that Tojo poisoned a drink at random and Momota was the one that drank it.  If anything, I’m to blame, for letting her take inspiration from our argument…”</p><p> </p><p>Ryoma pulls his hat down, wordless.</p><p> </p><p>“No one was hurt.  But please don’t do it again.”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t, I swear!  I promise you all, I’ll never attempt to kill someone again!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then..it’s okay,” Amami says, smiling.  But, Harukawa notes, the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.  His eyes, also, are...empty.  Cold.  <em> Paranoid. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> He’s lying, </em> Harukawa thinks.  She’s not the only one to think so.</p><p> </p><p>“Big talk from the person who was accusing her in the first place,” Ouma chirps again.</p><p> </p><p>“Silence, degenerate male!  Akamatsu was just trying to protect us, which is more than you tried to do!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you don’t know what I was doing!  I was totally rallying my ten thousand subordinates through telepathy to come and rescue us!”</p><p> </p><p>Keebo sputters.  “That is obviously a lie!”</p><p> </p><p>“Gonta understand wanting to protect group!  Gonta want to protect group too!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s certainly a nobler intention than I had,” Hoshi mutters.  “You got a ways to go, kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“It plainly didn’t go as planned, but your intentions shine though clearly, Akamatsu,” Shirogane lightly touches her shoulder. “We can think up a better one next time!”</p><p> </p><p>“You guys…” Akamatsu says, smiling, tears brimming her eyes again.  It makes Harukawa sick.</p><p> </p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, Amami’s smile falls.  In the other corner, Ouma’s face goes blank.</p><p> </p><p>“Normally Angie wouldn’t forgive these sorts of things so easily,” Yonaga’s light and cheery voice contradicts her dark expression, as she practically sneers at Akamatsu, “but you’re lucky, you know?  God is looking down in your favor right now!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu’s smile cracks a bit, looking a bit confused and frightened.  “A-ah, is that so?”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma’s signature laugh cuts through the easy conversation, sending chills down his classmates' spines.  Harukawa is unphased, as is part of her profession, but she turns around to see what the fuss is about regardless.</p><p> </p><p>“How cold, you guys!” He says, cheerily.  “Brushing off poor, sweet Saihara’s feelings…!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh, right. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Like everyone else in the class, Harukawa turns to look at Saihara.  Saihara startles, jumping back a bit.  He looks terrible, blue in the face and drenched in sweat in tears, grasping at his hat as he gasps for breath.  His eyes meet Akamatsu’s for a moment before he looks down in shame, in horror, in hurt and betrayal--</p><p> </p><p>“Saihara?” Akamatsu says, her voice barely above a whisper.  “Saihara, I’m so--”</p><p> </p><p>“D-don’t,” he says, gritting his teeth.  “Please.  Don’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu staggers, looking suddenly terrified.  “Saihara--”</p><p> </p><p>But Saihara doesn’t listen.  He turns around and runs back to the elevator.  Akamatsu moves to stop him, but Ouma slides in front of her before she can get very far, stopping her in her tracks.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Akamatsu!  Don’t you know when to quit it?  Or do you enjoy running things to the grave?”  He sneers, and laughs when Akamatsu visibly winces at his statement.  “You’ve done enough damage, fearless leader!  Who knew you were such a sadist?”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m not a sadist!  I didn’t mean to hurt him!”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t mean to murder, didn’t mean to betray your best friend...gosh, is there anything you did mean to do?”  At those words the elevator dings, and Ouma turns in its direction, waving back at Akamatsu.  “Sorry, hate to cut this short, but I gotta go murder your beloved Saihara, since you couldn’t get the job done!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ouma--!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oops, that was a lie!  Did you fall for it?  A trashy liar like you probably did!”  As the elevator door closes, Saihara dips his hat lower while Ouma waves.  “G’night everyone!  Try not to imagine Akamatsu bashing your heads in tonight!”</p><p> </p><p>And then the elevator door closes.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t listen to that degenerate, Akamatsu!” Chabashira declares, grabbing Akamatsu by the shoulders and lightly shaking.  “You’re a wonderful person!  He’s jealous that he’s not half the person you are!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu frowns, eyes far away, and says nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“No.  Ouma has a point,” Harukawa snaps, and the gazes of her classmates return to her.  “Akamatsu didn’t think about the consequences of her actions, could have murdered an innocent person, and is now playing it off by saying she ‘didn’t mean to’.  Was that the point in being the leader?  To gain all of our trust and then use it against us?”</p><p> </p><p>Keebo sputters.  “Harukawa!  That’s so uncalled for--”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, Kibbles, the titless wonder has a point!” Iruma shouts back.  Harukawa scowls, glaring Iruma into a whole where she squeals and whimpers from.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not dealing with this idiocy,” Harukawa says, and turns on her heel to exit the courtroom.  Her exit inspires a few other people to trot along, namely Iruma, Shinguji, and Yonaga.  Amami follows them as well, but more hesitant.  As they wait for the elevator, Harukawa spares a single glance over to Akamatsu, whose back is facing her as she’s crowded by her adoring fans, and a yawning Yumeno.  Akamatsu’s shoulders are raised and tense, her head is slightly bowed, and she doesn’t react to a word anyone says to her.</p><p> </p><p>The elevator dings.  Harukawa doesn’t look back again.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>That was close.</p><p> </p><p>In the comfort of her lair, Shirogane sighs, and relaxes into her chair.  She loosens her ribbon, takes off her jacket, and gets comfortable; for a moment there, she was seriously concerned about whether or not she’d have to intervene - it wouldn’t do well for her to break her own rules so early on.  Thank goodness Tojo was inspired enough by Hoshi’s words this early to commit murder - while it sucked that she wouldn’t be able to use the whole “Prime Minister” thing, it was better that someone was dead and the game was started.</p><p> </p><p>Having both Akamatsu and Saihara alive was an unexpected surprise, but it worked out better than she could have expected.  There was always the risk that they would survive, and a lower, but more frightening one that they would continue to work together, but their split was effective.  It was already pulling in plenty of views.</p><p> </p><p>What was more concerning, however, was the fact that Momota was the one to die.  That wasn’t in any of her plans - and she had many plans, contingency upon contingency - until far later in the game.  He was too integral to character development, and isolating Harukawa and Saihara!  But here they were, Momota-less.  What would happen from here?</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane sighs again, but more pained, and runs her hands through her hair as she leans forward against the control board.  This was going to be a massive headache.  Nothing she couldn’t plan for, afterall, but a massive headache nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>...but didn’t that make this almost better?  After all, Enoshima’s plan also went awry…</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane smiled to herself, too tired to laugh, but relieved by the thought of her goddess.  That’s what this was, after all, a tribute!  An imitation.  She was but a mere cosplay copycat, doing her best to reach towards Enoshima’s shining despair--</p><p> </p><p>And were her plans going awry not despairing?  Truly, this was a blessing in disguise.</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane looks up, then, and glances across the main security cameras of her classmates’ rooms.  For the most part, everyone is sleeping easily.  The usual sort were still awake - Hoshi, Iruma - but they were joined also by Akamatsu, who’s lying on her side on her bed and crying into her pillow.  Saihara is also awake, his hat off his head and in his hands.  He’s crying too, or he maybe just stopped, and is silent.</p><p> </p><p>Lastly is Amami, curled up in bed and staring at the other monopad.</p><p> </p><p>She knows it’s the second one because of how long he’s staring at it - he’s clearly watching <em> that video </em> again, with the way his usually cool facade has cracked into concern as he stares at it.  Amami had been her initial target, sure, but it was fascinating to see him in the trial, so cruel and paranoid and relentless.  Being able to use a character like him for her killing game really was an honor.</p><p> </p><p>And since he lived, it was not an honor she was going to squander any longer.</p><p> </p><p>Satisfied, Shirogane stands up again, leaving her jacket against the chair.  She softly pads to the exit - the library one - and shuts the light off as she leaves.</p><p> </p><p>---</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i know the murder was a little lacking, i'm a little bad at writing mystery stuff, and it's not really the important part of this story.  we also are definitely gonna take our time from here on out - this chapter was to setup the divergence.  got a whole lot planned for the second round, so we'll see where it goes!</p><p>thx for reading xoxo<br/>https://ko-fi.com/kerryrly</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. ch 2 - day 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another floor.  More rooms.  More research labs.</p><p>Harukawa leaves before anyone could stop her.</p><p>And she’s right to do so, and even luckier that no one found her lab before she did.  Her stomach drops as she walks into the room - it’s the swankiest assassin hub she’s seen in her entire life.  She was honestly a little impressed.  Had she hated her job less, she may have been almost excited by it.</p><p>But Harukawa Maki despises death, despises her profession, and despises this lab with every fiber of her being.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>alternative titles: ouma did nothing in chapter 1 so now he causes problems for 40 pages and tenko wasn't supposed to get a large role yet i gave her more lines than iruma for some reason</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>chapter 2</em>
</p><p>
  <em>murder and maidens</em>
</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>As if it wasn’t torturous enough before, Harukawa’s lab opens up after the trial.</p><p> </p><p>The next day at breakfast, the mood is dim and dark.  Most people are comfortably silent or awkwardly chatting with their almost-friends; Akamatsu fall in the middle - silent, as Shirogane and Yonaga flank her, the former trying to do her best to get Akamatsu to respond, while the latter laughs at something Yumeno said and preached about her God.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa debated on whether or not she would even attend, but decided on doing so based on the pain in her stomach as it growled.  She stays off to the side, picking at bland food that Shirogane and Chabashira prepared for everyone, what with Tojo gone.  It’s okay.  Nothing stellar.</p><p> </p><p>The Monokubs pop in, a little less blue than the last time Harukawa was unfortunate enough to see them.  They spout some nonsense shit-tier comedy act that Harukawa doesn’t pay attention to, drop off some items, and leave as unceremoniously as they came.</p><p> </p><p>Another floor.  More rooms.  <em> More research labs. </em></p><p> </p><p>Harukawa leaves before anyone could stop her.</p><p> </p><p>And she’s right to do so, and even luckier that no one found her lab before she did.  Her stomach drops as she walks into the room - it’s the swankiest assassin hub she’s seen in her entire life.  She was honestly a little impressed.  Had she hated her job less, she may have been almost excited by it.</p><p> </p><p>But Harukawa Maki despises death, despises her profession, and despises this lab with every fiber of her being.</p><p> </p><p>Panic overtakes her before she can even close the door, and it slams with the force that she swings it at.  She winces.  She cannot slip up like that again.</p><p> </p><p>Her heart is racing just as fast as her thoughts as she scans the room.  There has to be something she can trap the door with.  Maybe several somethings?  As long as the traps don’t interfere with each other, she could probably set up two or three…</p><p> </p><p>Before she even realizes what she’s doing, she’s hooked up two booby traps to the door and several portable locks.  As she’s tying the final knots on the third trap, she stops herself in her tracks, evaluating what she’s doing.</p><p> </p><p>What if Monokuma takes the locks off?  What if someone actually triggers the traps, and then everyone finds her lab regardless?  Then they find her, because who <em> else </em> would know how to kill someone with a trap, and then it’ll be her climbing the vine with the thorns and the razors and the falling--</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa lets out a shaky breath.  She could take down the traps.  No one was hurt, it would be fine.  But she couldn’t leave the room unguarded.</p><p> </p><p>Biting her lip, Harukawa slowly dismantles the traps, letting everything fall to the side.  Luck seemed to be giving her a break; no one comes near her lab as she does this.  Once the traps are off, she takes the locks off as well, tossing them all in a pile.  She kicks the remnants of her panic to the side, and they slide across the waxed floors just enough to be out of the way.</p><p> </p><p>She presses a hand to the door.  Inhales, exhales, and does not cry.  Humans can cry.  Cold blooded killers aren’t human.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa steels herself, pretends like she had never been un-steeled in the first place, and marches over to the back again.  There had to be some sort of sleeping bag, something that could at least make camping out in the lab comfortable.  Camping near her target, hiding in houses and buildings and unsavory places, those were all typical things for an assassin to do.  Surely, there was something--</p><p> </p><p>She finds an air mattress towards the back.  That would do.  She could use her cloak as a blanket.  It was a gorgeous cloak, honestly, a deep red in the center of the room, made of a thick and rich fabric.  It would serve well as a blanket for the most part.</p><p> </p><p>She sets up her cloak and the mattress off to the side before hearing voices outside of the door.  She’s on edge, like a guard dog, and jolts at the slightest noise, rushing over to the door.  She presses her ear against the wood.</p><p> </p><p>She can’t make out what he’s saying, but she knows it’s Saihara.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa whips the door open just a crack - enough for him to see her, but not enough for him to see anything inside. That cookie jar look crosses his face again as she catches him with his arm extended to grab the doorknob. He jumps backwards, yelping slightly, stumbling towards the far wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa!” he says.  Interestingly, he’s making eye contact with her.  “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were--”</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” she snaps.  “I have this room under control.”</p><p> </p><p>He flounders for a moment, ever the deer in headlights.  Yet as he reaches for his hat, this time he swallows down the fear.  “W-what did you find in here?  Can...c-can I come in?”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely not.  I told you I have this under control.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it your lab?” he steps forward.  Where the hell did this come from?  “Why d-don’t you want me to see your lab?”</p><p> </p><p>“None of your business.  I don’t have to deal with this.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa moves to close the door, but Saihara lunges for the edge as she swings it.  She stops the motion, just barely avoiding squishing (and probably breaking) his hand.  Mustering up her best glare, she shoots down his eye contact almost instantaneously.  His eyes dart back down, this time landing on his hand, and she watches his fingers start to slip.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> What? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I just--” he stops himself from choking on the anxiety.  “I wanted to apologize.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa raises an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“You could have been seriously hurt...o-or...worse...all because I-I <em> guessed </em> about there being a mastermind.  Y-you got really wrapped up in it, and it’s...it’s m-my fault.  I’m sorry.  I-I’m just an apprentice detective, I should have realized that I was making a mistake--”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine,” Harukawa says, losing a bit of the edge she had from before.  If she’s a guard dog, he’s a kicked puppy, cold and alone in the rain, tugging at her small, thin heartstrings.  “You weren’t the one trying to murder anyone.</p><p> </p><p>“B-but, had I not tried to get the mastermind--”</p><p> </p><p>“You made a mistake.  No one was hurt.  It’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not--” his voice cracks.  “It’s not fine.  To me.  I really...I really regret it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s on you,” Harukawa shrugs.  “I don’t have anything against you, so if you can’t forgive yourself, that’s your problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“I--” he falters, looking back up at her.  “You’re n-not...you don’t hate me?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa rolls her eyes.  “I don’t care enough to.”</p><p> </p><p>“O-oh.”  He tapers off.  His eyes drift to the side a bit, no longer prying to get in the room.  Harukawa huffs.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re done, can you leave me alone?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah!  R-right, um, s-sorry, I’ll just--”</p><p> </p><p>“Wahh?? Mister Detective is leaving a mystery unsolved?  You’re crushing all of my dreams!”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa can’t fight the groan that bubbles beneath her breath as Ouma bounces into view, clinging onto Saihara’s forearm as Saihara jolts in alarm.  Ouma was loud, boisterous, off the walls and <em> fucking annoying. </em>  She didn’t necessarily have anything against him personally (yet) but he was certainly lower on her list than the calmer classmates, like Saihara, solely for the fact that half the words he said made her want to wring his neck like a dishtowel.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sad, Saihara!  So sad that I might take a knife and eat it and choke on blood and die!  Then you’d be executed because it’s all your fault!”</p><p> </p><p>“W-what?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Nishishishi!  But that’s a lie!  If I were to eat a knife and explode then it would be <em> allll </em> because of Harukawa!  How mean, that she won’t let us inside!”</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” she spits.</p><p> </p><p>“Oooh, Saihara, what if we play good cop bad cop?  Ruffle her feathers until she lets us in!  You can bribe her with fun things like your goofy emo hat and I can sick my super evil organization on her!  What do you prefer, Harukawa?  General nerdowells, the mafia, super stealthy assassins--”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa pushes Saihara’s hand out of the way and slams the door before Ouma even finishes his last word.  She flips around, her back against the wall, and stares out into the expanse of the lab.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He couldn’t know, right?  There’s no way he could know. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Is this what Saihara felt like?  Akamatsu, Tojo, or Amami?  The feeling is suffocating, as Ouma and Saihara’s voices fade to indiscernible muffles from behind her, ripping apart at her chest as she slides to the floor.  The paranoia, the fear that any of them could know what she was hiding, the fear that they <em> all knew, </em> and saw through her so easily--</p><p> </p><p>She tries to breathe.  Breathing is so hard.  Why is it so hard?  She’s an assassin.  She’s trained to be perfect in any and all stressful scenarios--</p><p> </p><p>Yet as she stares out into her lab, covered wall to wall in the heavy burden of her secret, she finds the task nigh impossible.</p><p> </p><p>What would she even do if they found out?  Would they blackmail her?  <em> Would she kill them? </em></p><p> </p><p>Harukawa lets out another breath, shaking and stagnant as it chops its way out.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No one could know. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Life was really looking down for Akamatsu Kaede.</p><p> </p><p>The previous day’s events were crushing.  Akamatsu counted herself lucky that anyone even spoke to her, let alone treated her as kindly as they did.  Of course, it was expected that some people would be mad.  Still, it hurt to walk into the cafeteria the next morning, eyes droopy and still puffed up from long-dried tears, to see so many people look away from her.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing hurt more than Saihara’s reaction, though.</p><p> </p><p>Saihara had been the last to the dining hall that morning, looking equally as tired as she felt.  If Akamatsu was up all night in and out of tears, she could only imagine what happened to Saihara.  His hair was messy even underneath his baseball cap, and his eyes, though downcast, had massive bags beneath them.  He even looked paler than usual - which was saying a lot, all things considered.  When he entered, Akamatsu opened her mouth to speak, to say something, to wave him over--</p><p> </p><p>But he took one look at her and walked in the opposite direction, seating himself at one of the far ends of the table beside Hoshi.</p><p> </p><p>After breakfast, before Akamatsu could even think to potentially ask Saihara to explore with her, he was out the door, one of the mysterious keys wrapped around his fingers.  Harukawa followed with the same energy, and then a few others began to funnel out after.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu had sighed, and offered to help clean up breakfast instead.  There was plenty of time to investigate after.</p><p> </p><p>Cleanup had been Shirogane, Chabashira, and herself.  Yumeno joined them, but didn’t do much, opting to sit to the side and snore instead.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you feeling today, Akamatsu?” Shirogane asked.  Shirogane had been nothing but kind since her apology at the trial, offering to walk her back to her room, offering her a seat beside her at the table, and Akamatsu felt so, so guilty.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m...alright,” she said after a beat, nodding with minute vigor.  “Getting through it.  I know it’ll take a bit for me to really feel better, but that’s just gonna take time, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“What a good attitude!” Shirogane chirped.  “You’re plainly good at remaining logical!”</p><p> </p><p><em> Logical enough to jump to murder, </em> Akamatsu thought to herself, fighting back the grimace that was threatening to overtake her features.  Still, Akamatsu remained silent, opting to focus on the dishes instead.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” she started.  “New places to explore?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s very exciting!”  Chabashira responded.  “Tenko hopes her lab has opened up!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!  Me too!”  Shirogane said with a smile.  “I’m excited to investigate!”</p><p> </p><p>And that was how she ended up slowly investigating the newly unlocked areas with Shirogane.  Chabashira and Yumeno had split up from them, deciding to take the other side, and she and Shirogane took off--</p><p> </p><p>--only to run into Yonaga almost immediately, as she tinkers with a bizarre object.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello my friends!” Yonaga chirps.  “God has bestowed Angie a treasure!”</p><p> </p><p>“What <em> is </em> that?” Shirogane asks, sounding nothing short of terrified.  “Is that some sort of weapon?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Nyahaha!  No, it does not seem so!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why is that something to laugh about?!”</p><p> </p><p>“It looks like some sort of flashlight,” Akamatsu offers.  “But it’s really...much...for that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Angie was thinking the same!  God has not given Angie the divine wisdom of what this object is just yet, though, so Angie has been trying to investigate it for herself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Any luck?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not yet!  But Angie is persistent!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu hums.  “Maybe we can ask Monokuma about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“A-Akamatsu, why would you want to talk to that...that...thing?!  That’s just plain crazy!”</p><p> </p><p>“W-Well, he did say yesterday that he’ll give information if you ask,”  Akamatsu says, hesitant.  “What’s the worst that could happen?  He laughs at us?”</p><p> </p><p>“God thinks that’s a wonderful idea!” Yonaga claps her hands.  “God praises you, Kaede!  How divine!”</p><p> </p><p>“O-oh, um.  Thanks then, God.”</p><p> </p><p>But God does not give her another response - or rather, if he does, Yonaga is not merciful enough to bestow it.  “Monokuma!  Please show yourself!  Angie has questions for you!”</p><p> </p><p>Following soon after Yonaga’s call is the familiar chime of <em> Rise and Shine, Ursine! </em>  Out pop the teeny tiny Monokubs, waddling over to the girls like ducklings chasing after their mothers.</p><p> </p><p>“Yo, youse broads rang?”</p><p> </p><p>“Angie remembers asking for Monokuma!  Not his funky little children!”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t call Monodam funky!” Monotaro shouts.  “He’s so fragile!  That’s so mean!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for your defense,” Monodam says, words cranking out his mouth like a typewriter.  “Our bonds are very important.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Akamatsu says, uneasy.  “But, um, where’s Monokuma?”</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy’s busy right now, so we were sent!” Monophanie chirps.  “But we can help you with any questions you have!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, alright.”  Akamatsu steps to the side to give the Monokubs a better view of the object.  “Yonaga found this item, earlier.  What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>The Monokubs look at the item, and are quiet for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re starting with the flashback lights <em> already? </em>” Monosuke half-whispers in Monotaro’s direction.</p><p> </p><p>“D-Don’t ask me!  I wasn’t told about this!”</p><p> </p><p>“...yes you were,” Monophanie says, tilting her head.  “It was just yesterday.  Don’t you remember?”</p><p> </p><p>“A-As if I could!  Monokid died yesterday!  I’ve been <em> grieving! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Flashback light?” Shirogane asks, interjecting.  “What’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Wahh!  I totally forgot there was a third person there!” Monotaro screams.  “You’re just so...so...forgettable!”</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane winces.  “To be forgotten even by our captors...well that’s just plain sad.”</p><p> </p><p>“The flashback lights are designed to give ya back yer missing memories, ya see?” Monosuke says, ignoring his siblings.  “They only have one use, though!  So make sure ya bastards use it together!”</p><p> </p><p>“Our...missing memories?” Akamatsu’s eyes widen.  “Like, about how we got here?”</p><p> </p><p>“No spoilers!  Ya bastards will find out when ya use it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Be sure to wait for everyone, though,” Monodam demands.  “Do not forget about your bonds.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, of course!  Angie would never forget!”</p><p> </p><p>“O-kay!” Monophanie says, looking pumped out after helping.  “Any other questions?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!  Please go away now!  Angie has no more use for you!”</p><p> </p><p>Monophanie squeaks, looking extremely dejected.  “O-Okay, sorry!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “So Long, Bear Well!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Bye-onara!”  Yonaga says back, looking just as cheery as before, despite the fact that the Monokubs are already gone when she says it.  She laughs, then, the same hollow, joyful laugh she always does.</p><p> </p><p>“So, what’s the plan?” Shirogane asks, looking to Yonaga.  “We have to go get everyone, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“But of course, Tsumugi!”  Yonaga claps her hands together.  “We absolutely must gather everyone at once!  Let us all meet back in the gym!”</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane smiles, nodding.  Akamatsu even finds herself smiling as she nods in confirmation as well.  As much as she liked being the leader, it was nice to not have to be in the forefront anymore.  Letting someone else call the shots was a weight off of her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu’s face drops at the thought, however - she’d gotten so used to walking around with the shot put ball in her backpack, she’d completely forgotten to take it out.  A chill runs down her spine; should she go run to the warehouse to put it back?</p><p> </p><p>Would people even trust her to go to the warehouse alone anymore?</p><p> </p><p>“Akamatsu?”  Shirogane asks, and Akamatsu is broken from her reverie, looking over to her friend.  Shirogane’s brows are furrowed, concern evident on her face.  “Are you alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah!  I’m fine!  I just spaced out, is all,” Akamatsu says lightly, waving Shirogane off.  “So the gym, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, yes!  Gather anyone you see and meet in the gym in ten minutes!  Angie will be waiting there with the flashback light!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds good!”</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s see who gathers the most people, shall we?” Shirogane says, lightly nudging Akamatsu.  There’s a playfully competitive glint in her eye as she says it.  Akamatsu laughs in response.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure!  You’re goin’ down, though!”</p><p> </p><p>And with those words, Akamatsu and Shirogane dart off in opposite directions, Yonaga’s cheerful laugh ringing around the corridor in tandem with their footsteps.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Amami stares up at the bookshelf door again, as if the bookshelf hadn’t almost brought him to his untimely demise not even a day ago.  Yet the mystery of it tugs him in, grabbing him by the shirt and forcefully <em> yanking. </em></p><p> </p><p>He was disappointed in himself for being so cruel to Akamatsu during the trial, but in the same vein, he was so incredibly frustrated with her inability to use foresight at the cost of his cranium.  Sure, nothing bad had <em> actually </em>happened, but had he entered the library like he’d planned, before Momota emptied his guts on the table--</p><p> </p><p>How did they even find out about the door, anyway?  It honestly made Saihara more suspicious.  Amami knew about it because the stern-looking mirror image on his second monopad bestowed him with the information beforehand.  The gleaming hidden room, tucked away in the back of the library, staring down at him and mocking, shouldn’t have been on anyone else’s monopads, if the video was to be believed.  Anyone, of course, except the mastermind.</p><p> </p><p>...or so he thought right now.  There was always a chance that everyone else also had a video like him, and they all thought they were the actual Ultimate Survivor, and the technique was used to create this insane level of paranoia that would get them all killed.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, he wasn’t given a fake talent to tell everyone.  Of course not.  That would be too convenient for him.  It didn’t add up that everyone else would get the survivor perk and a second talent, when he would <em> just </em> have his perk.  Additionally, if Saihara was the mastermind, why would he draw purposeful attention to him knowing the bookshelf room?  To draw out a murder?  Maybe, but it was risky.  And, as evidenced, there were <em> plenty </em>of other ways to do that.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Saihara was just desperate.  Maybe Amami is severely overthinking things.</p><p> </p><p>Amami sighs, closing the bookshelf over the door again.  Staring at it and thinking about how he almost died is certainly not doing wonders for his mental state.  As if a constant state of paranoia wasn’t enough, he now got to add the stress of almost having his head bashed in and everyone else forgiving her for it!  No point in adding his crushing complex of uselessness to it.</p><p> </p><p>If only he’d acted faster.  Maybe Momota would still be here, then.</p><p> </p><p><em> But then I wouldn’t be, </em> he reminds himself quietly.  God.  How fucked up was that?</p><p> </p><p>If there was one thing the whole ordeal had taught him, it was that if there were any people he could trust here, the number was low.  Saihara had a good point; one of them was definitely the mastermind.  It was a matter of finding out who it definitely couldn’t be, and determining their trustworthiness from there.  For instance, Akamatsu and Saihara were certainly not at the top of his list - but Saihara, bravely standing up for what was right, was far more worthy of trust than Akamatsu at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>As sad as it was, though, Saihara made himself a bit of a target yesterday.  Maybe it would be better not to get close, just in case.</p><p> </p><p>As these thoughts bounce around his head, the library door opens.  He jolts, hurrying away from the bookshelf door and the bookshelf murder trap that, Amami noticed, still stood proud and tall.  (Amami supposed that it was because it wasn’t related to an actual crime, since the game room had been entirely cleared).  His breathing quickens, his heart races, and he turns the corner--</p><p> </p><p>--to get face to face with Akamatsu.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t even think as he backs up, giving them distance.  Once he realizes what he did, he realizes she did the same, looking just as messed up as she did that morning.</p><p> </p><p><em> Good, </em>Amami thinks bitterly, quietly.  He doesn’t let it show on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Akamatsu!  I’m sorry, I was just startled.”</p><p> </p><p>“No no, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”  She waves him off, her hands shaking in front of her as though they were farther apart than they actually were.  “We were looking for you.  I...had a feeling you were down here.”</p><p> </p><p>His stomach drops.  He hasn’t heard a body discovery announcement - at least, not yet...  “You were looking for me for a good reason, I hope?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah!  It’s nothing bad.  Well, I think.  It seems harmless.”  She pauses.  “It’s...this flashlight thing.  It’s called a flashback light.  Supposedly it’ll bring back missing memories.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami’s eyes widen, despite himself.  “Missing memories?”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu nods.  “That’s what we were told, anyway.  The class is meeting in the gym right now.  We just didn’t wanna try it out without everyone there.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami nods slowly.  This...is big.  What if he’s able to find out his other talent?  Why he’s here?  Anything about the other killing games, maybe?</p><p> </p><p>“Well, let’s not keep them waiting, then,” he says, starting to walk out of the library.  As he reaches where Akamatsu is standing, she falls in step.  “Is everyone already there?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shirogane is getting Iruma and Keebo right now,”  Akamatsu says, holding the door open for him as they exit the library.  “But other than that, everyone else is there.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Not that there’s that many of us, </em> Amami thinks to himself.  <em> And who knows how many will be left before he gets to end the game? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Akamatsu.”</p><p> </p><p>“U-um, yeah?”  Akamatsu says.  Despite the uncertainty of her voice, she manages not to miss a step as she walks.</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Amami says cooly.  “I was totally out of line.  I had just...been planning to go to the library to grab something, and I got really spooked.  That doesn’t excuse my behavior in the trial, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu’s face is grim, droopy, frowning, <em> guilty, </em> “No, Amami, it’s really alright.  I deserved it.  You were totally right - I was way too rash, and I could have seriously hurt someone.  Seriously hurt <em> you. </em>  Sure, I was going after the mastermind, but I should have realized they’d be smarter than to fall for my...rudimentary trap.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, don’t discredit yourself.  It was clever!  Had Harukawa not seen it by accident, I would have never even known it was there!”</p><p> </p><p>“It really wasn’t anything <em> crazy-- </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I think it was clever.  I certainly wouldn’t have been able to come up with something like that.”  He smiles, doing his best to be warm and friendly.  “Ouma had a point.  Maybe you <em> should </em> try making Rube Goldberg machines.  Get one to play piano, or something!”</p><p> </p><p>At that she snorts, and then falls into laughter soon after.  It’s a twinkling sound, gentle and bright, and she covers up her mouth with her hand as she doubles slightly with the force.  It’s the happiest she’s looked all day.</p><p> </p><p>(it makes his smile slip.)</p><p> </p><p>“No <em> way. </em>   It would never work!  Plus it would be <em> way </em> too crazy!”</p><p> </p><p>“Quitter talk from the Ultimate Pianist, I see.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs again, fuller, brighter, and she has the first uplifting thought cross her mind since the night before:  <em> I’m so glad he forgives me.  Maybe we can be friends again.  Maybe things will look up. </em></p><p> </p><p>As she laughs, however, one thing crosses Amami’s mind, loud and clear:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m never trusting this girl again. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa is by the door to the gym when the light goes off, and when it subsides, the grip she has on the door is the only reason she’s still standing.</p><p> </p><p>Ultimate Hunt.  The violent slaughter of ultimates.</p><p> </p><p>On one hand, she totally understands how she made it out of there.  Assassin training does come with its perks; Harukawa is mostly certain that no one in this room could possibly get the best of her alone, save for maybe Gokuhara due to size.  The exisals and potential accomplices in murder are the only things she has to fear.  Maybe poison, actually, also - the same reason Momota Kaito was no longer with them to see this.</p><p> </p><p>Faintly, Harukawa finds herself wondering how much training he had to go through as an astronaut.  Would he have been able to escape?  Would he have been able to best her also?</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t matter anymore, though.  Momota is dead and anyone in the room, herself included, could be next.  As much as she wants to bolt out of the room and never think about the Ultimate Hunt ever again, it would be too suspicious, and the last thing she needs is more people on her case, sniffing around and finding out things she shouldn’t.</p><p><br/>She lingers.  She mostly tunes out of the conversation - then Hoshi mentions Amami saying something about the Ultimate Hunt a few days ago, and she tunes back in.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa isn’t sure how to feel about Amami.  He’s a shady guy, no questions there, but he doesn’t seem to have malintent, aside from targeting Akamatsu a bit in the trial.  But that was reasonable in Harukawa’s opinion.  Not that Harukawa liked Akamatsu enough to care about whether or not it was.</p><p> </p><p>“I--”  Amami looked pale, eyes darting around a little too quickly as he grips his head, “Is that what you all saw?  In the light?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah,” Saihara says, fiddling with the lid of his cap, face a funky shade of purple again, “Did you see something else?”</p><p> </p><p>A few different things pass across Amami’s features: confusion, fear, suspicion, <em> guilt </em>.  He settles somewhere in the middle of them all, and shakes his head.  “I didn’t see anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing?” Hoshi says, voice dipped in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing at all,” Amami confirms, frowning.  “M-my head hurts, though.”</p><p> </p><p>That last part, at least, was definitely no lie.  Even if it was, it isn’t Harukawa’s place to question it.  As the discussion begins to subside, Harukawa grips the door, swings it open, and struts out of the place with vigor.  The longer she spends there, the riskier it is.  </p><p> </p><p>Still, she couldn’t help but think of the hunt all the way up to the lab.  Is that why they were here in the first place?  Were they captured, stripped of their memories, and then forced to kill each other?</p><p> </p><p>The door to the lab closes, and she rests against it, as usual.  Her stomach growls, but she ignores it, opting to sit on one of the storage units instead.  What would be the point of taking away their memories, if not to take away their memories of being Ultimates?  Nothing was adding up.  None of it made sense.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa decides that she’s best off leaving the thinking to the smarter people in the group.  She has bigger things to worry about.</p><p> </p><p>The solitary of her lab is welcomed, yet deafening.  She feels so small and so confined in the expanse of it, but she’d rather be here than interacting with the others.  Probably.  She definitely was a bit curious about the rest of the school from what she had overheard the others say, but it wasn’t a matter of life or death like her lab is.</p><p> </p><p>Her lab is a lot of death.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa grimaces, shakes her head, and leans into her legs, hugging them as she sits alone in her lab.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji is quiet company, but polite company.  The quiet is a bit awkward, even Amami will admit, but he can respect that Shinguji doesn’t pry.  Amami has a lot on his mind, especially with the headache the light brought him.  White is pinching the edges of his vision, and he wishes he could turn the lights off of the dining room, but instead he sips on the tea and pretends like his head isn’t threatening to split apart.</p><p> </p><p>The flashback light hadn’t shown him anything at all - but that didn’t mean it didn’t do <em> something. </em>   The ringing in his ears stung like needles when his vision blurred to nothing, a void of all color, and then he heard the whispers, crawling against his brain like spiders.  <em> Ultimate Despair, </em> they had muttered against his skin, whispers of something long dispersed.  <em> Run, Amami. </em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know what the hell the Ultimate Despair was, but even the thought of it brought an involuntary shiver to his spine.  Thankfully, the bodily reactions were growing lesser the more he thought about it.  The migraine was an unnecessary touch, however.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you feeling, Amami?”  Shinguji says, his voice smooth like butter.  “You look rather pale.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve definitely felt better,” he says weakly.  “Whatever that light was gave me a killer migraine.  Thinking hurts a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji’s eyebrows raise.  “That doesn’t sound good.  Would you like to return to your dorm?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can manage,” Amami says with a small wave.  “This tea is helping a lot.  It’s very good.  What did you say the brand was?”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji shakes his head.  “It was a personal blend of herbs.  A few different types, but the predominant ingredients were lemon and jasmine.  They’re good for easing one’s third eye chakra.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami laughs airly.  “I thought Chabashira was the one who handled that kind of stuff?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aikido doesn’t use the chakra system.  It focuses on ki.”  Shinguji sips his own tea, through a small opening in the zipper - it’s not enough to see his face.  “While my own beliefs are a bit more muddled than a direct line of practice, I have found through my studies that all belief systems have some form of truth to them, especially since the chakra system has ties to acupuncture.  So while it may not alleviate your migraine perfectly, it should help.”  His eyes sparkle.  “I also added a bit of ginger, as that usually has medicinal help.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami whistles lowly.  “That’s some impressive stuff.  I’ll keep that in mind for if we get out of here.  One of my sisters gets migraines a lot every couple of weeks.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji stops mid-sip.  “Your sister?”</p><p> </p><p>That makes Amami laugh a little harder.  “Well, one of them.  I have twelve.”</p><p> </p><p>“Twelve sisters?  My, what a large family.”</p><p> </p><p>“What can I say?  It’s my dad’s values,” the last part comes out a bit bitterly, but he has a migraine and can’t help it much.  “But yeah.  There’s thirteen of us in total, and I’m the oldest.”  He takes another sip, and then stares down into the cup, his voice a little quieter.  “I miss them a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have a sister as well,” Shinguji says.  “Older.  She and I were very close.  She is very important to me.  I understand your feelings, Amami.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami nods, unsure of what to say, but it’s a nice feeling, to have someone understand him a little.  Sure, Shinguji doesn’t have the stress of his hidden talent, extra monopad, and newfound information about a mysterious subject, but there’s still a bit of...relief, almost.</p><p> </p><p>It makes Amami suspicious all over again.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just, so…” he trails off, searching for the right words, but the headache is failing him.  “Stressed.  I guess.  I feel like I’m gonna go a little crazy if I’m here for too much longer.”  He frowns, gripping the cup tighter.  “I miss my sisters.  I feel like a failure.”</p><p> </p><p>“The fact that you are doing all that you can to escape and return to them proves that you are a good older brother,” Shinguji observes objectively.  “You seem like the sort of person who shoulders a large amount of responsibility very quietly.  It makes sense that you would feel that way.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Ouch. </em> Way to read him like a book.  “You can tell all of that by just two sentences?”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji’s eyes crinkle, indicating a smile beneath the mask.  “I can tell that because you say things such as, ‘I am going to stop the killing game alone, do not interfere.’”</p><p> </p><p>Amami is silent for a moment.  “I suppose I could have been more...tactful.”</p><p> </p><p>“High responsibility leads to high stress.  It would do you good to not allow yourself to shoulder your burdens alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay,” Amami says, a bit too quickly.  “I wouldn’t want to bother anyone else.  I’m sure everyone has a ton of burdens on their shoulders.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji is silent, taking a sip of his tea and examining Amami.  He hums lightly, mostly to himself, and then places the tea down.</p><p> </p><p>“It is okay to doubt others,” Shinguji says simply.  “Because trust cannot exist without it.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I should get going,” he says then, standing up.  “But it was lovely spending time with you.  I am interested in doing this again, if you would like.  Do get some rest for your head.”  And before Amami can even comment on it, Shinguji is walking away, as though the conversation didn’t abruptly end.</p><p> </p><p>Amami blinks owlishly, staring at the empty doorway.  A moment passes before he turns back around, looking at his cup.  The tea has gone lukewarm at this point, and soon it will be too cold to drink.</p><p> </p><p>“Trust and doubt...I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” he mumbles, sipping at the tea again.  Trust and doubt.</p><p> </p><p>Well, if he <em> was </em> going to trust someone, then he had a lot of doubting to do, and a lot of doubting to do quickly.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The last day or so was a blur to Saihara, so he really had no clue how he ended up in Gokuhara’s lab with Hoshi and Ouma.</p><p> </p><p>He and Hoshi are seated at one of the tables in the middle of the lab, though neither are really saying anything.  Hoshi’s eyes are distant, staring off at nothing as he turns the candy cigarette between his teeth.  Hoshi always looks a bit sad, but the sadness was more prominent in the way his gaze was pointed at the bugs.</p><p> </p><p>Saihara wants to say something - anything, really - but he cannot find the words.  </p><p> </p><p>Ouma has no trouble with words, though.</p><p> </p><p>“Gontaaa, this is suuuuper boring,” Ouma whines, hanging off Gokuhara’s shoulders like a jungle gym.  “I thought you said this would be fun!”</p><p> </p><p>“Bugs are fun!” Gokuhara says with a grin.  “Gonta can pull some out for you to play with!”</p><p>Ouma’s grimace is palpable. </p><p> </p><p>“Mmm, nope!  Watching a beetle toddle around sounds mega lame!  If you give me something too lame, I might die!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara gasps.  “Do not die, Ouma!  Gonta would be sad!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then you’ll just have to find something fun for me to do!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma hops off of Gokuhara’s shoulders, and Gokuhara stands to his full height; Saihara had never felt insecure about how tall he was before, but Gokuhara’s massive figure did make him a little self conscious about how...flimsy he was.</p><p> </p><p>The more Ouma whines, though, the more Hoshi’s brows twitch.  The spinning of the candy cigarette begins to slow to a stop, and Saihara hears him sigh just a little too loudly.</p><p> </p><p>Saihara isn’t sure where the fear that pricks at his gut comes from - maybe from Akamatsu, smiling for all of those days, and stabbing him in the back ultimately; maybe from how Hoshi speaks so lowly of himself, and how much Saihara is reminded of himself - but it’s there, and it overtakes him, and he finds himself squeaking out words before he can think them properly.</p><p> </p><p>“U-Um!  Do you want to play cards?”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi stops, and looks at him with mild, but clear surprise.  He sighs, but there’s no irritability behind it, and after a moment, shuffles in his seat to gain a more comfortable posture.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.  You got a deck?”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.  He does, in fact, have cards; earlier that day, he’d found himself walking through the warehouse alone after he’d checked out all of the new places, and picked up a few new items to keep himself occupied, like a notepad and some pens.  Part of him had wanted to perhaps take a few books from the library, but the guilt of Akamatsu’s actions hit him like a gut punch as soon as he even got near the area, so he opted against it.</p><p> </p><p>Saihara slides the deck over, and Hoshi shuffles expertly.  Saihara isn’t very surprised at the revelation that Hoshi was well-acquainted with card games, but Saihara isn’t so bad at them either.  Saihara smiles to himself; maybe it was something they could bond over.</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi twirled the cigarette in his mouth again.  “So, what were you thinkin’?”</p><p> </p><p>But of course, no good things can ever last for terribly long.  Without Saihara even noticing, Ouma pops up from behind him and leans over his shoulder, eyes twinkling with unbridled mischief, and it takes everything in Saihara not to jump five feet in the air.  “Ooooh, whatcha playing?”</p><p> </p><p>“We actually, um, haven’t figured that out yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, good!  I can join then!”  Ouma slides onto the side bench, mercifully giving Saihara some space.</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara wanders over, looking like a curious, giant kitten.  “Can Gonta play too?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine by me,” Hoshi grumbles, seemingly unbothered in that wise, rugged sort of way he always is.  “So what are we playing?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a short silence.  Saihara pales under the pressure, having absolutely no clue what to suggest.</p><p> </p><p>“BS!” Ouma sings after the moment ends.</p><p> </p><p>“How surprising,” Hoshi deadpans, but starts dealing the cards out anyway.  A brief explanation of the card game is doled out to Gokuhara, and the game begins with Ouma slapping his entire hand into the center with a singsong of “seven twos!”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara almost regrets suggesting it.</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi looks like he has something to say, but breathes a tired, heavy sigh instead, widening Ouma’s shit-eating grin.</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara frowns, brows furrowing.  “But Gonta thought that card deck only have four types?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s because Ouma lied, Gonta,” Hoshi says.</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara pauses, turning to look back to Ouma.  “Is this bee ess, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw geez, Gonta, you sure got me!” Ouma says, pulling the pile back.  “Gosh, how did you even notice?”</p><p> </p><p>No one dignifies that with an answer, opting to continue on.</p><p> </p><p>The game continues relatively the same after that, with Saihara and Hoshi playing seriously, Gokuhara slowly (but surely and enthusiastically!) picking up the concepts, and Ouma ruining it with general tomfoolery.  Saihara doesn’t call Ouma out on his bluffs most of the time - mostly because the game would end really quickly if he did - though he and Hoshi both prevent Ouma from winning the best they can.  In a weird way, it’s kind of fun to Saihara, and as the game continues on, even Hoshi cracks a small smile when Gokuhara indignantly calls Ouma out on yet another obvious lie.</p><p> </p><p>It’s an odd group, but it’s a fun group, certainly, and it’s the lightest Saihara’s felt in the past few days.  The guilt of almost causing Amami’s death is still present, but not nearly as suffocating as it would be if he was in the room with them, and it’s easy, for a moment, to forget.</p><p> </p><p>To forget about the responsibilities he has as the group detective to solve the mystery--</p><p> </p><p>To find the secrets of this place--</p><p> </p><p>(to find the mastermind--)</p><p> </p><p>“Two kings,” Ouma says, flopping his two cards into the pile.  He has one card left in his hand, and the pile in the center is large enough that if they called him on lying right now, there would be no chance he’d win the game.</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi notices this too, quirking a brow over his own hand, looking between the pile and Ouma.  Once again, Ouma’s face is painted in a Cheshire grin, eyes narrowed deviously, inviting the challenge to his move.</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi hesitates - but only for a second.  “That’s bull--”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” Saihara says before he can think, and the group turns to him.  Saihara’s focus is locked on Ouma, a hand to his chin in thought as he analyzes.</p><p> </p><p>“Saihara.  He’s lied every round the entire game.”</p><p> </p><p>“Which is exactly why he wouldn’t be lying now.  You’d have to pick up the pile and he’d be a card away from winning.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, what if his card isn’t the right one for the next round?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’d still have an advantage,” Saihara says, resolutely, “even if he is lying about his next drop opposed to you.  If he lied here, it wouldn’t matter how many cards he put down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Two is more believable than three, especially if one of us has two Kings.  He can’t know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s too calm.  Every other time when he’s lied, his shoulders have been more relaxed.  This time they were tense, and his jaw was set a little tighter than before.”</p><p> </p><p>(Saihara doesn’t notice it, but Ouma’s grin slips, and shock passes his face momentarily.  It’s gone before anyone can see or comment on it.)</p><p> </p><p>“He’s really good at lying regardless.”</p><p> </p><p>“But the gamble’s basically the same, since we’d call him on lying next round anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi huffs.  “I think you’re overthinking this.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara turns to Hoshi, breaking away from the spell of his train of thought.  Then the anxiety creeps in.  Sure, Hoshi doesn’t <em> look </em> mad, necessarily, but Saihara catches up to himself and flushes.  He grasps for the brim of his hat, his lifeline, and swallows down a shaky breath.</p><p> </p><p>“A-ah, um.  Maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi frowns.  “Well, if the detective is sure he’s not lying, I’ll believe it.  Just a game, after all, nothing big.”</p><p> </p><p>While Hoshi’s words are clearly meant to help dispel the embarrassment, all they do is make it worse - <em> look at you, rookie detective, can’t even let a game just be a game, can’t let a person get away with a justified crime, can’t catch a mastermind without letting it lead to someone’s death-- </em></p><p> </p><p>Ouma stands up suddenly, his face sheet white like he saw a ghost.  “What?  What what what?  To see through a liar like me so easily, what kind of massive power do you possess?!”</p><p> </p><p>What.</p><p> </p><p>“Gonta!  My loveable sidekick best friend!  It’s him, isn’t it?  He’s the final boss?!”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara flounders.  “Wha--final boss?!  Final boss of what?!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll start cleaning up the game,” Hoshi mumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you <em> tell </em> me Gonta?!  I’ve been exerting too little of my power!  How could you let him just waltz in here and catch me all naked!”</p><p> </p><p>“N-Naked?!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara frowns.  “Gonta confused.  What power?”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma clicks his tongue.  “Obviously you’re too dimwitted to understand my massive intellect and magical prowess.  But Saihara seems to be a maniacal mastermind!”</p><p> </p><p>(Ouma doesn’t miss the way Saihara’s body tenses.)</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara gasps.  “Saihara no maniacal anything!  Saihara is a kind friend!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, he’s got you too!”</p><p> </p><p>As Ouma does...that, Hoshi places a hand gently on Saihara’s shoulder.  Saihara tenses again, looking over to Hoshi with fleeting eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t take it to heart, kid,” he mumbles.  “He’s just spouting shit.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s not much to calm Saihara down, but the realization that Hoshi doesn’t believe it (and doesn’t hate him) is enough to even out his breathing a little more.  Saihara doesn’t say anything, only offering a weak smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Well I’m not gonna stick around here anymore!  I’m in mortal grave danger!”  Ouma hops out of his seat and onto the floor, already halfway out of the room before the sentence is up.  “Can’t catch onto me if you can’t catch me!”</p><p> </p><p>His laughter can be heard ringing through the halls in tandem with his footsteps as he runs away.</p><p> </p><p>A moment passes, with poor Gokuhara looking no more sure of what happened than when it started.  Hoshi shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever he’s on, I want some.”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>As soon as Ouma turns the corner (and makes sure no one is there) his face plummets.</p><p> </p><p>His first interpretations of the cast were rather disappointing.  Amami was the only one that truly showed any promise - solely because he was the only one smart enough to be outwardly distrustful aside from Ouma himself.  It was the kind of distrust Ouma could respect, because it was like his: laced under a thin layer of personality that gently guided people away from the truth.  Simply put, Ouma likes Amami because Amami is a <em> liar </em>.  And while Ouma hates liars for the most part, he can respect the person doing it out of solely clear self-preservation.  It makes Amami, so far, the only person worthy of his trust.</p><p> </p><p>Anyone else could be the mastermind.</p><p> </p><p>For half a second, Akamatsu was interesting as well, as she willingly took up the mantle of leader and numero uno target for murder - but one conversation with her proved her to be uninteresting in the longrun.  Honestly, she should be thanking her lucky stars Tojo happened to snap first (although really, a maid in a murder game is a matter of time) because Akamatsu would be dead in a ditch with her shitty mentality.  Now, though, she’s just a would-be murderer being hailed as an angel.  Gross!</p><p> </p><p>Which leads to now, and Ouma’s plans now unraveling and re-raveling at the seams, and Saihara, plucky boy detective at the center of it all, managing to catch him off guard.</p><p> </p><p>If Ouma wants to live, he <em> cannot </em> be caught off guard.</p><p> </p><p>Amami was the goal, but Gokuhara was a stop along the way, as his general usability would be a damn shame to throw away.  Use Gokuhara to distract everyone when the next motive rolls around the corner, and when no one’s looking, swoop in with an enticing, <em> very coded </em> offer to Amami, and trail him through figuring it out.  Afterall, can’t be too obtuse when people are watching.  Who doesn’t love a good mystery?</p><p> </p><p>And speaking of mysteries.</p><p> </p><p>If Akamatsu was the sun, then Saihara was Icarus, getting swept up in the flames and shriveled and blah blah blah.  It makes sense.  But Icarus didn’t get this weird, half bounce back sort of thing that Saihara seemed to be getting.  A second wind on his waxy wings, somehow solidifying them again before they can melt off fully and kill him in the ocean.  Eyes like a hawk and brain like, fucking, Sherlock?  What the fuck.  Where did that even come from?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well.  Guess he wasn’t the Ultimate Detective for nothing. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Things weren’t supposed to be surprising.  Ouma isn’t happy that things are surprising.  Now Ouma has to <em> plan </em> for someone <em> else </em> because Amami’s no longer the only interesting person in the room.  How freaking annoying.  But still…</p><p> </p><p>Ouma smiles to himself as he enters his room, closing the door with a wicked slam.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, the group agreed to have dinner together.  After a good nap, the migraine had dissipated, and Amami joins the group for the meal, provided kindly by Shirogane and Akamatsu.</p><p> </p><p>Amami would be lying if he said he didn’t wait until Shinguji, who sat beside him, took a bite first and seemed to be fine.  As much as he would like to sit down and eat without a care like everyone else at the table, his brain kindly supplies the reminder that the game ends with two people left, and there’s no rule against Shirogane and Akamatsu poisoning everyone.</p><p> </p><p>He fights off the grimace and takes a bite anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“You degenerates should be thanking Akamatsu and Shirogane for the food!” Chabashira declares as everyone begins to settle.  “They were kind enough to make it for you all, after all!”</p><p> </p><p>“N-No, that’s very unnecessary!”  Akamatsu shakes her head, doing her best to remain calm and collected.  “It was fun, anyway!  I don’t mind!”</p><p> </p><p>“What Akamatsu said.  It was a good time!”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma scoffs.  “I don’t think I need Bakamatsu’s idea of a good time.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu’s smile turns wry, but she says nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“You should be nicer to Akamatsu!”  Chabashira retorts.  “Girls should support girls!”</p><p> </p><p>“I support you shuttin’ the fuck up!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma immediately bursts into crocodile tears, clinging to Iruma’s arm from his seat.  “WAAAAH!! Mommy and mommy are fighting, I don’t want you guys to get a divorce!”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma attempts to swat him off.  “Get off you fuckin’ nutjob!  I wouldn’t marry that bimbo any day!”</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira scowls.  “Tenko would never marry someone so crude and disgusting!  Nor would Tenko have such a degenerate child!”</p><p> </p><p>“D-Disgusting?!”  Iruma nearly shrivels, and Keebo lets out a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“This is ridiculous.  Let’s just thank Akamatsu and Shirogane for the food and return to eating, please.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”  Ouma says in the tone of voice he uses when he’s about to cause a problem.  “But you’re a robot!  What do you eat, nuts and bolts?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami laughs tonelessly as Keebo squawks back a response about robophobia, and the cafeteria finally delves into separate conversations and general eating.  Amami doesn’t say much, opting instead to look around the room and at his classmates - his classmates who have already seemed to form their own cliques, more or less.  His classmates.  Potentially the last people he’d ever see.</p><p> </p><p>Amami frowns.</p><p> </p><p>Trust and doubt.  Trust and doubt.  Those ideas rattle around his brain as he chews, scanning the room for its inhabitants.  On the far right is the girl group of Chabashira, Yonaga, Yumeno, Shirogane, and Akamatsu.  Out of them, Amami supposed, Akamatsu would ironically be the least likely to be the mastermind, but that didn’t make her any less untrustworthy, as she clearly resorts to violence quickly.  Chabashira’s in a similar boat, Yonaga’s just unnerving, and Yumeno and Shirogane are just a bit <em> too </em> inconspicuous.  It makes them, well, conspicuous.</p><p> </p><p>The center of the table holds himself, Shinguji beside him, and Iruma and Keebo across from them.  Shinguji rests somewhere in the middle - he comes off a bit...eccentric, but he’s polite, doesn’t stand out too much, but also doesn’t stand out too little.  So far, he’s probably the number one contender, but even then, he doesn’t talk about himself much for Amami to latch on to.  Iruma talks <em> too </em> much, is <em> too </em> loud, and while her talent is probably a red herring, it’s incredibly concerning that there’s an inventor amidst all of the incredible technology in this place.  Keebo, inherently, is suspicious.  Probably not mastermind material, but a robot in a game where the “headmaster” is a robot?  Amami’s not taking any chances.</p><p> </p><p>To the left are Hoshi, Gokuhara, Saihara, and Ouma.  Hoshi’s probably also relatively trustworthy, seeming to not take his life seriously enough to resort to violence or commit to orchestrating something like this, but it would make him a target.  Gokuhara’s either a fantastic and terrifying liar or the most naive person on the planet, meaning he’s a target or the person he’s aiming to stop.  Saihara is probably not the mastermind, super smart, but has a growing target on his back, and Ouma is...well, Amami isn’t quite sure.  Amami likes him well enough (he just pulls on the correct brotherly heartstrings), but the fact that he knows how to accurately charm Amami is a bit concerning in itself.  He has to think on that one.</p><p> </p><p>It’s then, of course, that he realizes Harukawa is missing.</p><p> </p><p>“Shinguji, have you seen Harukawa?”</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa?  I believe she was present for the flashback light, but I have not seen her since.”  He looks around the room.  “Ah.  She’s not here.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s why I was curious…” he frowns, as a shiver runs down his spine, “do you think she’s…”</p><p> </p><p>He runs off, and Shinguji’s expression turns grave.  “There is a chance.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Iruma barks, drawing their attention to her.  “Pigtails is dead?”</p><p> </p><p>“But Angie is right here!” Yonaga chirps from the other side of the room, causing the rest of the room to stop what they’re doing and pay attention.  Amami says nothing, but appreciates quietly to himself just how soft spoken he is.</p><p> </p><p>“Not you pigtails,” Iruma snaps.  “If I was talking about you, I woulda said psycho bitch!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma’s lip quivers.  “Are you talking shit about mommy behind her back, mommy?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, not THAT pigtails either!  Are you all fuckin’ dumb?!  Harukawa isn’t here!”</p><p> </p><p>“O-Oh, um,” Saihara squeaks, drawing Iruma’s sharp gaze to him  He looks away, unsurprisingly.  “I saw her earlier.  She was in her research lab.  O-Ouma was with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Eyes turn to Ouma next, and he shrugs.  “She was there alright!  Super duper territorial, too.  Wouldn’t be surprised if she pissed on the door or something.”</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira sputters.  “Don’t talk about a girl like that, you degenerate male!”</p><p> </p><p>“Wouldn’t even leave the room!  Just told us to go away.”  Tears well up in his eyes again.  “How mean of her!  I just wanted to see her room!  Imagine what kind of cool stuff the Ultimate Babysitter has?!”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji’s head tilts.  “Is she not the Ultimate Child Caregiver?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you’re right, sorry.  Ultimate Nanny.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji snickers.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure she’s still there?”  Amami says, worried.  “Like, did you see her before dinner?”</p><p> </p><p>“W-We, um, we saw her e-earlier,”  Saihara says, looking down at his plate, “b-but, I think she’s s-still there.  She’s m-making sure no one e-enters.”</p><p> </p><p>Keebo frowns.  “Still, I believe someone should check on her to make sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can do it,” Amami offers.  He looks over then to the girls’ table, accidentally makes eye contact with Akamatsu for a moment, and then turns sharply to Shirogane.  “Um, can you help me make a plate for her?  If she really is still there, I doubt she’s eaten.”</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane lights up, and she gets up out of her seat.  “Oh!  Of course!  You wait right here, I’ll get it out to you in just a second!”  True to her word, before Amami can say a thing, she’s already in the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira narrows her eyes at Amami, and he scratches at the back of his neck.  “I’m gonna thank her when she gets back, don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Amami,” Shinguji says, and Amami turns to him, “perhaps you should not go alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Ah.  Yes.  Trust and <em> doubt </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Amami smiles - it doesn’t reach his eyes, because the meaning isn’t lost on him.  “That’s a good point.  Shinguji, will you--”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you want <em> me </em> to come Amami?  I’m so flattered!”  Ouma all but <em> leaps </em> out of his seat, gliding over to where Amami’s standing on the other side of the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I suppose that works too.”</p><p> </p><p>On his way to Amami, Ouma passes Saihara, and he grins as he leans down into Saihara’s space, speaking loud enough for the whole room to hear.  “I know you’ll miss me Saihara, but I’ll be back soon!  Try not to get wrapped up in another murder plot while I’m gone, m’kay?”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara turns pale, grabbing onto his hat as Ouma skips away.  Amami doesn’t turn around to face Akamatsu, so the only indicator of her reaction is Chabashira’s angry yapping and the scoff that comes from Keebo.</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane mercifully returns after that, handing Amami the plate.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks Shirogane.  If you don’t mind, I can help with dinner tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane’s face falls a little flat.  “Ah.  It’s appreciated, but you don’t have to try your charms on me, Amami.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami blinks.  “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Before Shirogane can respond, Ouma tugs on Amami’s arm like a child to their older sibling--</p><p> </p><p>(Hana, his fifth younger sister used to do that, and now she’s gone--)</p><p> </p><p>“Amami, come on!  Harukawa’s gonna bleed out at this rate!”</p><p> </p><p>Right.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright, I’m coming,”  Amami responds, sounding not the least bit annoyed, and the two exit the room.</p><p> </p><p>Since Amami has no idea where her lab is, it’s Ouma that leads the way, finally dropping his arm in favor of swinging his own arms behind his head.  Ouma looks him up and down with a different sort of glint in his eye, and Amami quirks an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“...You’re a bit of a pushover, aren’t you, Amami?”  Ouma says, grinning now.</p><p> </p><p>“Well that’s a little mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m an evil supreme leader, I’m not supposed to be nice!  I offered to help you because I simply pitied you!”</p><p> </p><p>“For what, offering to give Harukawa dinner?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kibbles coulda did it, if he wanted someone to check on Harukawa so bad.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami doesn’t really have anything to say to that.</p><p> </p><p>“Then again, he’s just machine bits, right?  Can’t think or act for himself in the long run!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey now, that’s unnecessary.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma gasps.  “Did he use his robo-hypnosis on you too, Amami?  I thought you were stronger than that!”</p><p> </p><p>Despite himself, Amami huffs out a quiet laugh.  “Well, you know what they say about assumptions.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma flings himself onto Amami’s arm again - thankfully not the one with Harukawa’s dinner - and wails.  “No!  Amami, I can’t lose you too!  You’re all I have left in this hellish world!  I won’t let them take you away, I won’t!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami rolls his eyes good-naturedly.  “Keebo’s not gonna take me away, Ouma.  Crazy concept, but I can be friends with both of you if I want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah, kumbaya, totes,” Ouma deadpans.  “When the robot apocalypse comes to your door, we’ll see your tune then!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, but that implies that it’s not here yet, doesn’t it?”  Amami smiles.  “Don’t live so scared of hypotheticals.  Keebo might be the best person you’ve ever met.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma says nothing at that, eyes squinting, as though observing something on his face.  It makes Amami a bit self-conscious, and he fights the urge to scratch at his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>After a moment of silence, Ouma hums, dropping Amami’s arm.  “You know, you wouldn’t be a good preacher, Amami.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?  What does that have to do with anything?”</p><p> </p><p>“Preachers are supposed to practice what they say,” Ouma says with a wink, and then scampers off ahead of him.</p><p> </p><p>Amami falters, pausing in his steps.  Despite his shock, his mind is strangely blank, eyes wide, and mouth slightly open.  What can he say to that?  <em> How does Ouma even know that?  </em>Was their entire conversation just, just what?  Fishing for something?</p><p> </p><p>Clearly expecting that reaction, Ouma doesn’t bother to look behind him, skidding to a stop in front of a door.  It’s then that he turns around, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on Amami, and grins like a kid on Christmas, pointing at the closed door.</p><p> </p><p>Ah.  This must be Harukawa’s lab.</p><p> </p><p>Amami walks over, ultimately giving up on trying to discuss whatever just happened with Ouma.  Ouma steps to the side as he approaches, mercifully remaining silent, and Amami knocks on the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Go away.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Thank god. </em>  “Hey Harukawa, it’s me.  I was just checking to make sure you’re, well, alive.  Also, I brought you food.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa pauses.  “You...came alone?”</p><p> </p><p>The distrust in her voice is heavy.  “No, I brought Ouma with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma grins.  “Had I known you wanted me to talk, I would’ve said something sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t,” Harukawa snaps.  A moment passes, and the doorknob turns.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa opens the door just a crack - not enough for Amami to see anything - and shimmies out of it, slamming it shut before either of the boys can make a comment.</p><p> </p><p>Ouma tsks.  “Secrets secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you wanna die?”  Harukawa bites, and Amami’s eyebrows skyrocket.  Ouma doesn’t miss a beat, opting to once more wail at the top of his lungs, clinging to Amami.</p><p> </p><p>“All I wanted to do was check to make sure she’s okay, and she treats me like this!”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, here’s your food, Harukawa,” Amami says weakly, handing Harukawa the plate.  Harukawa takes it surprisingly eagerly, scarfing some of it down.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Had...had she eaten at all today? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Who made this?” Harukawa says in between bites.  “It’s not bad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Shirogane and Akamatsu did.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa stops chewing and scowls.</p><p> </p><p>Ouma snickers.  “Shirogane was the one who fixed your plate, not Akamatsu.  If you become Momota 2.0, you know who to blame!”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t--”  Harukawa swallows, looking troubled, “don’t even joke like that.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma sighs melodramatically.  “If I can’t joke about death in a killing game, then what <em> can </em> I joke about?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’d be better if you just shut up.”</p><p> </p><p>“But where’s the fun in that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway,” Amami says, “why didn’t you come to dinner?”</p><p> </p><p>“Wasn’t hungry,” she says, in between bites of her dinner.</p><p> </p><p>Neither Amami nor Ouma even bother responding to that.  Harukawa swallows again, and then slowly looks down at her plate, and then back at them.</p><p> </p><p>“I...got hungry later,” Harukawa adds, to no avail.</p><p> </p><p>“If I didn’t see Akamatsu like, five minutes ago, I’d’ve assumed you murdered her in cold blood!”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa sighs lowly.  “Do you <em> ever </em> shut up?”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, you know, if it’s between all of us - my best friend Amami and Madame Shitty Liar here - I wouldn’t’ve snitched.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ouma.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?  I’m just sayin’.”  He swings his arms behind his head again.  “I trust you guys not to tattle, right?”</p><p> </p><p>A silence permeates the air after he speaks.  Neither Amami nor Harukawa respond, opting instead to keep their eyes trained on Ouma.</p><p> </p><p>Eyes, of course, filled to the brim with distrust.</p><p> </p><p><em> As it should be, </em> Ouma thinks to himself, and he smirks devilishly.  “Well, it’s certainly been fun, but an evil supreme leader like me needs his beauty sleep.  I’ll see you two tomorrow...or maybe not!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma laughs again to himself, turning around and running off again.  Amami and Harukawa watch him go, Amami sighing to himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Does he ever walk?”</p><p> </p><p>“He doesn’t do a lot of things, apparently,” Harukawa grumbles, scowling in his direction.  Her plate is clean now, having eaten the whole thing relatively heartily.  Amami frowns down at it, wondering again why she didn’t come down for dinner.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes trail back up to the door and linger there, until Harukawa catches him staring.  His eyes return to hers, then, red to green, and a moment passes with silence.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m...glad you’re okay,”  Amami says hesitantly.  “When I realized you weren’t there, I feared the worst.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph.  I wouldn’t die so easily.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami smiles softly.  “I’m glad to hear that.  I can take that back for you, if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa looks down at the plate, and then hands it to Amami, who takes it gingerly from her.  Another pause.  “Are you...sure you’re okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa frowns.  “Why does that matter to you?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami laughs.  “I’m not wishing you harm or anything.  Plus, with everything that happened yesterday - well, actually, I should be thanking you.”</p><p> </p><p>“For what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Covering for me in the trial, by saying we went in together.  I hadn’t thought about the complications that could cause until you spoke up.”</p><p> </p><p>“It would’ve looked suspicious for me too, which is why I did it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it helped me out too.  So thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Another silence passes.  Harukawa looks as though she wants to say something, but ultimately says nothing.  Amami smiles.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, are you gonna ask it or no?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ask what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ask what I was doing in the library,” Amami says coolly.  “You look like you want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you even tell me?”  Harukawa says without missing a beat.  Amami hesitates; he hadn’t expected that answer.  Perhaps he could bargain for the info?  I tell you mine, you let me into your--</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.”  Well, looks like he waited too long.  “So I’m not going to ask.”</p><p> </p><p>“Even though you want to know?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s none of my business,” Harukawa responds, completely unbothered.  “I prefer to keep to my business.”</p><p> </p><p><em> So stay out of mine </em> goes unsaid.  A lot of things seem to be going unsaid between them, Amami notes.  Nonetheless, he nods in understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to come to breakfast tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami smiles.  “Then I’ll bring you food tomorrow, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa frowns, folding her arms.  “You really do not have to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Someone’s gotta make sure you’re not dead.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa pauses, but sighs.  “That’s a fair point.  Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Night, Harukawa.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.  Bye.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa turns around to the door, and Amami takes that as his queue to turn around and head out also.  Trust and doubt: while Harukawa hiding an entire room is suspicious, it’s nowhere near the bookshelf room door, and it’s far too obvious of her.  Surely the mastermind would be better at hiding themselves than this, right?  Everyone has secrets, at the end of the day.  Wouldn’t he be doing the same if it were his lab?</p><p> </p><p><em> Well, </em> Amami thinks with a frown, <em> let’s see if we’ll make it that far. </em></p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The marker cap falls to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>‘Dead’, ‘Suspicious’, ‘Unsure’.  These are the three categories Ouma scribbles onto the whiteboard he’s hauled into his room in inky black marker.  Ouma sets the marker on the whiteboard’s holding rack, and picks up the first of his classmate’s photos, sticking tape on the back idly.</p><p> </p><p>Poor Momota Kaito is first, stuck to the ‘Dead’ column.  A shame.  All this talk about reaching the stars and getting to space and he couldn’t even make it past the first trial.  He was a bit...well, like Akamatsu, but dialed up to eleven, and was pretty suspicious, but he was fun to mess around with.  A damn shame.  </p><p> </p><p>Second is Tojo Kirumi, the obvious first killer, being placed right beside her victim.  The group was better off without someone inclined to murder, that’s for sure.  Ouma did miss her cooking, though.  Shirogane was playing dutiful maid and all, but it wasn’t the same.</p><p> </p><p>The ‘Suspicious’ column gains the most names, first being Akamatsu Kaede.  He doubts she’s the mastermind, of course, but she’s proven herself everything except worthy of trust.  After her is the walking talking bucket of bolts, Mr. Obviously a Problem, Keebo himself.  Ultimate Robot?  The fuck kind of talent was that, anyway?  He was definitely not the mastermind, but there was no way in hell he’d ever trust a robot in a place as high tech as this.  Up next is the little cave rat, Harukawa Maki, holed up away in her talent lab like a bear in hibernation.  She was obviously lying about her talent - no way in hell she could be a babysitter - and her trustworthiness has to remain up in the air until he can find out what it is.  She’s not a very good liar, though, so at least she has that.</p><p> </p><p>After Harukawa are Yumeno Himiko and Shirogane Tsumugi, both placed under that column due to how mind-numbingly boring they are.  Either they’re actually that unbearable, or they’re lying to seem unassuming.  Either way, not worth his time.  And after them are Shinguji Korekiyo and Yonaga Angie - Shinguji mostly because he just <em> looks </em> creepy, and masters the art of inconspicuous in a way Shirogane and Yumeno wish they could, and Yonaga less because he thinks she can be the mastermind and more because she just seems like a fucking psychopath.  He scribbles Chabashira Tenko under that column as well, lastly, because she’s too gimmicky and annoying.</p><p> </p><p>And in the final category of ‘Unsure’: Amami Rantaro, Saihara Shuichi, Iruma Miu, Gokuhara Gonta, and Hoshi Ryoma.  Amami is a given, Saihara is piquing his interest.  Iruma manages to snag a spot there because it would be too obvious if she were the mastermind - Monokuma is a robot, afterall, and having an inventor as a player plants a target on her back.  If he can successfully pin her down (Ouma laughs to himself at that thought), he might be able to get her to make stuff for him that can fight the mastermind.</p><p> </p><p>And if they don’t work, well, then he knows he was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara is in no way a liar, and that’s almost sad to Ouma, that such a naive person got swept up in this mess.  Had the situation been different, Ouma may have been nicer to him - maybe even friendly - but Gokuhara isn’t going to survive through friendship and if Ouma has to bully that into him, so be it.  Hoshi, lastly, surprised him.  There’s nothing about Hoshi that’s inherently trustworthy - he is an admitted murderer, after all - but his lack of luster for life just makes him likely to die.  Low chance he’s the mastermind, and being able to rule people out is the most important part.</p><p> </p><p>When Ouma finishes taping the pictures to the board, he draws a little smiley face in the corner, smiling to himself as he does so.  He steps back to admire his work for a moment, and then picks up the cap of his marker, sticking it on. </p><p> </p><p>What to do next?  The nighttime announcement played ages ago, so who knew what time it was now?  He could explore the school again, try and comb for another entrance into the secret door again, see what secrets the new floor held…</p><p> </p><p>But, it was a long day, and he’d barely slept the night before.  Can’t go toppling the foundations of a highly organized killing game on no sleep, can you?</p><p> </p><p>Well, that was good enough for him.  Ouma tosses the pen over to the whiteboard, misses, and walks away as it rolls across the floor of his room.</p><p> </p><p>---</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hate the kubs.  i hate them i hate them so much.  i understand the irony behind their addition in the game but i fugkign don't want to write them kodaka why did u burden me so</p><p>hi hi it's been a bit i had a senior project to write (and then get told i have to write a new one so...sob) but i have a break so it's fun writing time c;<br/>very glad y'all are enjoying this bc i'm enjoying this too!! thank u for all of the amazing comments they made my whole life &lt;3</p><p>thx for reading xoxo<br/>https://ko-fi.com/kerryrly</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. ch 2 - day 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I got your video.”</p><p>She knows that already.  He knows that she knows - that’s why he’s here, after all.  Yet the statement is suffocating all the same.  Her breath catches and her heart squeezes and a wave of fear rushes down her being, but the only indicator of it is the way her hand grips around the door ever so tighter than before.  Harukawa exhales, and then pries herself from the floor, stepping aside.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>everybody say happy birthday maki :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harukawa wakes up before the chime of the morning announcement, entwined in her velvet cloak on the air mattress.  Her back is tight and sore from being hunched and curled up while she slept, and she grits her teeth as she stretches it out, rolling onto her back.  She takes a few deep breaths, relishing the uneasy silence, before deciding that enough is enough.</p><p> </p><p>“Speak.”</p><p> </p><p>“H-Harukawa!  You’re awake?!” One of the Monokubs says.  The girl one.  Harukawa exhales out of her nose, sharply pushing herself up on the mattress to a seating position.  She hunches over, arms across her knees, and opens her eyes in a glare to the direction of the voice, spying Monophanie placing something on the table by her weapon rack.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not quiet,” Harukawa barks back.  “What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m just following Daddy’s orders!” she stutters out.  “Th-this is for you!”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s ‘this’?”</p><p> </p><p>She puffs out her chest almost proudly.  “Why don’t you see it and find out?  We almost weren’t going to leave it here for you, but since you haven’t left the lab at all--”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop talking,” Harukawa says, shutting Monophanie up.  Harukawa throws the cloak to the side, finally rising from the mattress. “I don’t care.  Get out.”</p><p> </p><p>“S-Sorry!  Don’t yell at me!”</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t yelling--” Harukawa starts, but she’s interrupted by a familiar <em> So Long, Bear-Well! </em>  She sighs, scanning the now-empty room for anything else that the Monokubs could have possibly done.  There’s nothing - nothing, of course, except for the lone video player on the table.</p><p> </p><p>A chime plays over the loudspeaker, and the monitor in the room turns on, with the Monokubs sitting on their couch, as per usual.</p><p> </p><p>“This is an official announcement from the Ultimate Academy.  It is now 8 AM.  Have a wonderful killing school semester today.”</p><p> </p><p>The green one says it this time.  Harukawa moves to pick her cloak off of the floor, lest it collect dirt.  Funny.  He hasn’t said much, has he?</p><p> </p><p>“Wonderful announcement, Monodam,” the pink one says, “I can’t believe it’s your first time.”</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t really your first time, is it?  Hey, is this really your first time?”</p><p> </p><p>“Th-this is the first time.”</p><p> </p><p>God, how annoying.  They announced it was morning already.  What else was there to say?  Harukawa tosses the cloak onto the air mattress, moving to the weapons racks in order to check stock.  Not that anyone should have been able to enter without her noticing, but, well, this school seemed to be full of surprises.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw...you’re blushing!  How cute.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, we dropped off some presents in your rooms.  Cower in fear!  Cus hell starts here!”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa glances back at the video player on the table.  It hasn’t moved, or turned on, or...anything.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “So Long, Bear-Well!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The monitor shuts off.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa stares at the video player, as if waiting for it to do something.  It doesn’t.  She frowns, considering truly, deeply, if it was worth watching.</p><p> </p><p>The answer was probably not.  But Harukawa feels pulled to walk over anyway.</p><p> </p><p>She pries herself away from the weapons rack, heading over to where the video laid face-up.  She’s feeling something creep up inside of her as she makes her way over.  What even was the video?  What was the purpose?  What sort of information would it relay that the stupid bears couldn’t do themselves?</p><p> </p><p>Before she can act on the impulse, though, there’s a sharp knock at the door, and it makes her startle, the hairs on her body standing at attention.  She storms away from the video.</p><p> </p><p><em> It’s too early to be Amami, </em> she thinks with a frown, and opens the door just a crack.</p><p> </p><p>Standing behind the door is Keebo, Iruma, and Ouma.  Ouma’s grinning, as per usual, making a show of trying to see into the room.  Iruma stands beside him, pretending to look uninterested.  In front of them stands Keebo, the one who knocked, looking ever-so determined for no reason whatsoever.  He’s a bit shorter than she is, so when his eyes brighten at her opening the door, it’s with his neck craning slightly to make eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa!  We came to collect you for breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” Harukawa says simply.</p><p> </p><p>Keebo’s smile slips, confused.  “U-Um, I apologize, Harukawa.  But we cannot leave you alone here.  Everyone has to gather to discuss the videos.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh yeah, the videos.  Everyone else also has one.</p><p> </p><p>“You can do it without me.  I don’t really care.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma rolls his eyes.  “See, Keebs?  I told you she was a lost cause.”</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa, I must insist!”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, pigtails, we don’t have all fuckin’ day!  Quit hiding in your sex dungeon and get your flatass out here!”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa doesn’t even dignify that with an answer, opting to glare at Iruma instead.</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa.  We really cannot have the discussion without everyone present.  I promise not to bother you any further, but it would be extremely helpful if you were to come with us!”</p><p> </p><p>These people did not give up.  “Fine, whatever.  Move.”</p><p> </p><p>Keebo lights up, scurrying out of the way so she can shimmy out of the room without any of them catching a glimpse at its contents.  Keebo doesn’t waste any time, walking away as soon as the door closes, amicably chatting with Iruma about tech stuff Harukawa doesn’t care to understand.  Ouma spares her a single, silent glance, before insulting Keebo again and laughing, leaving her out of their odd conversation.</p><p> </p><p>It’s fine.  It’s better this way.  She’d treat the cafeteria conversation the same way, and then leave as soon as the opportunity arose.  It’s not like any of this had anything to do with her.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Harukawa Maki, the Ultimate Assassin...an exceptionally talented young girl in the art of murder!  Of course, whether the pursual of your talent was voluntary or not is of no concern to us, but it sure matters for the orphanage!  Just think, Harukawa, about all of the wonderful children you left behind, taking up the mantle of a killer to save them!  I wonder what’s happening to them now that you’re no longer around to act as a buffer?  Surely, not an unfortunate accident involving the cult…!  But, I suppose you won’t know until you get out of here, huh?  Or...if...you get out of here.  Upupupupu!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ultimate Assassin.</p><p> </p><p>A cult and an orphanage.  Killers and children.</p><p> </p><p>Amami felt like he was going to vomit from the moment the video stopped playing, and the feeling wasn't leaving.</p><p> </p><p>He can see Shirogane, Yonaga, and Yumeno discussing something.  He can see the way their hands move, their mouths move, but he can’t quite hear anything except for Harukawa’s motive video, playing over and over and over again in his head.  The Ultimate Assassin.  <em> That </em> was her talent - not the Ultimate Child Caregiver - and that means that her lab was...for assassin purposes.</p><p> </p><p>Amami sits down.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you alright, Amami?” Shinguji asks from beside him, looking down in concern.  Bless Shinguji.  What a guy.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahaha, I’m alright,” he brushes it off as lightly as he can.  “I just, um.  Woke up wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“Was it your motive video?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I haven’t seen <em> my </em> motive video,” he says grimly.  “And frankly, I almost don’t want to.  But I guess that’s got me a bit screwy, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright to be a bit unsettled,” Shinguji offers.  He sits down beside Amami.  Then, quieter: “I know we agreed not to discuss videos yet, but I received Iruma’s.  It was a bit unsettling.  I knew the Ultimate Inventor had reach, but for the weight of the world to be on her back...I almost feel bad for judging her so harshly.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami snorts at that.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah...the videos are a lot,” Amami agrees.  He considers his next words carefully.  As much as he would like to open up the honesty field, Harukawa’s video...he clears his throat instead. “I guess I’m just...concerned about what mine says.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yes,” Shinguji says lowly, glowering at the ground.  “I can understand that sentiment.”</p><p> </p><p>At that, the doors open up.  The first group of people to enter are Akamatsu, Chabashira, Hoshi, and Gokuhara.  The four of them look no better off than anyone else in the room does.  Shortly after, Keebo, Ouma, Iruma, and Harukawa walk in.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa.</p><p> </p><p>She’s looking no more or less annoyed than usual, and he’s not sure if it’s something he should be happy or concerned about.  The more he stares at her, the more he realizes that she probably looked the least upset, ironically, just standing off to the side, fiddling with her hair.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands are small, Amami notes.  Harukawa was generally kind of small, though.  And yet...she probably killed more people than he can even imagine.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for waiting!” Keebo says.  “We have gathered everyone else!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, what Keebo said,” Akamatsu says.  “We should get on with the discussion, now.”</p><p> </p><p>“So what is it?”  Harukawa says, surprising everyone.  Her tone is sharp, but again, no sharper than normal.  Amami can’t help but wince at it.  “Why did you drag us here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, as I mentioned to you earlier, it’s about the motive.”</p><p> </p><p>“The motive?” Harukawa asks, blinking.  “The thing that looks like a monopad?  That’s a motive?”</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa, have you not watched the video on the Kubs Pad yet?” Chabashira asks.</p><p> </p><p>“No.  I ignored it because I figured it was something stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane scratches her cheek.  “That’s...actually courageous, in a weird sort of way…”</p><p> </p><p><em> Well of course she’d be courageous, </em> Amami’s brain unhelpfully supplies, <em> she’s an assassin. </em></p><p> </p><p>Assassin.  Assassin, assassin, assassin.  What a heavy word!  It rolls around Amami’s brain a few times, as though not truly reality, but it does make sense, in the long run.  She was standoffish and cold, and while that didn’t make him assume she would be a killer, he wouldn’t expect an assassin to have a bubbly personality.  In general, even, Harukawa seemed a bit too...short-tempered...to be able to handle kids well, but he’d assumed she’d had her own ways, since, well, talent.  But Amami has a knack for kids, always had, so it was always a bit odd to him.</p><p> </p><p>But it’s not like he has much room to judge, what with being the Ultimate Survivor.</p><p> </p><p>He almost laughs to himself at the thought, as the group’s conversation about the motive videos pushes on.  The Ultimate Assassin and the Ultimate Survivor, both hiding their identities from everyone else.  As freaked out as he was at the prospect of a professional killer in a murder game, it made sense that she would hide that.  After all, if that sort of thing were to get out to everyone, she would easily become a target.</p><p> </p><p>(just like him.)</p><p> </p><p>Momota’s death proved that it didn’t matter how big or strong someone was, and that anyone could be killed with the correct tools and opportunity.  Harukawa wasn’t stupid; she probably realized the same thing, when she realized Tojo was the killer, and when her lab opened up, she must have fully panicked.</p><p> </p><p>He...kind of felt bad.  What would happen when his lab opened up, if he made it that far?  Would he camp out with the same vigilance, boarding up the door in terror? </p><p> </p><p>The two were sort of the same, in that regard.</p><p> </p><p>“Although we do not know why our motives were mixed up,” Keebo’s speaking when he tunes back in, “as long as we don’t exchange them, we do not have to see them at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“So...you think it would be better to just ignore them?” Akamatsu says.  The girl can’t seem to go a single day these days without looking like she did something wrong.  “Ah, but I already watched the one I got…”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m sure everyone--” his eyes land on Harukawa, and Keebo pauses, “--well, almost everyone did.  But, that’s just what I think.  Feel free to disagree.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu frowns, and gives a quiet sigh.  “I’m...not sure I agree with you, actually.”</p><p> </p><p>“But, Akamatsu, if we ignore them, then we won’t have a motive!”  Despite the sureness in her tone, Chabashira looks decidedly uncertain as she says this.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m definitely against that,” Hoshi almost snaps, eyes alight with more emotion than Amami has ever seen out of him.  </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?  A-Against it?” Shirogane says.  “But, if you see your video, then it would become a motive, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s why I want to see it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hoshi,” Amami says, eyes darting to him as he tries to keep his tone light in order to avoid another argument.  “When you say it like that, it almost sounds like you’re planning to kill someone.”</p><p> </p><p>The atmosphere in the room stills.  A bit the opposite of what Amami was trying to do, but...he has a heftier video than probably anyone else in this room.</p><p> </p><p>A video best kept unwatched.</p><p> </p><p>“H-Hoshi,” Saihara says, quietly.  “You’re not…”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi sighs.  “I’m not planning to kill anyone.  I’ve said before that I don’t mind if you kill me.  But my video...has something I want to see.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara’s gaze softens, and then droops altogether, and suddenly Amami has a very good idea of whose video Saihara has.  He grips onto his hat.  “I...I’m sorry Hoshi, but...I don’t think we should watch the videos.”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi looks at him, and Saihara’s eyes drift away, pointed at the ground.  Hoshi doesn’t say anything, nor does he look particularly mad.  “...So be it.  But I have no plans in changing my opinion.  It’s just not cool.”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu frowns again.  “Hoshi!  Regardless of the videos, it’s not a good mindset!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma clicks his tongue, studying his nails.  “So <em> what? </em>  He was just stating his opinion.  Didn’t you agree with him, anyway?”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu falters, almost intimidated by the sudden harshness of Ouma’s tone.  “I-I mean, I agree that we should watch the videos, but his mindset is--”</p><p> </p><p>Like a light switch, Ouma’s expression suddenly flips.  “Well, I feel the same way, Akamatsu!  Hoshi’s got such a great point!  We should all watch the videos!”</p><p> </p><p>Keebo pouts. “Are you doing this to cause trouble again?”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma deflates.  “Don’t get the wrong idea!  I’m not saying we shouldn’t care about killing or dying.  I just think it would be way better if we didn’t cooperate with each other!”</p><p> </p><p>“N-Not cooperate with each other?” Chabashira stammers.  “Why?!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami’s eyes drift back to Harukawa.  She isn’t saying anything. This time, she’s looking a lot worse for wear, her face pale and brows scrunched.  He can understand why, after all, better than anyone here - she’s concerned about who found her video.  On who knows her secret.</p><p> </p><p>Right.  She’s an assassin.</p><p> </p><p>What else does he know about assassins?  He tries to dig deep into his memory to see what’s there, but he doesn’t have much - just a few comic book and novel characters.  But assassins were intrinsically different from normal killers, right?  There’s a chance she might enjoy her job, sure, but at the end of the day, it’s a job, as opposed to...a hobby?  What would killing people for fun even classify as?</p><p> </p><p><em> She must be loaded, </em> Amami thinks.  He takes a second to process the thought, and almost cracks a smile.  Then, it drops again, because Amami remembers her motive video.</p><p> </p><p><em> The orphanage, </em> he realizes.  <em> She probably gives all of her money to the orphanage. </em></p><p> </p><p>Or the cult.  But either way, she probably doesn’t get to keep her...murder money.  Because, based on context, her job wasn’t that willing, was it?  It had said she’d only become a killer to save them.</p><p> </p><p>Were the kids being targeted by a cult?  Did the cult produce assassins, or did she become an assassin to fight off the cult?  How the fuck did she even get roped into that?</p><p> </p><p>“So anyway, I’m just warning you all for your sakes,” Ouma says, snapping Amami back into focus.  He’s looking extremely cheery now, almost downright sadistic, and no one else in the room is even close to matching his energy.  “Let’s just exchange our motive videos, instead of cooperating!”</p><p> </p><p>Keebo opens his mouth to say something, but Amami speaks before he can even register what he’s thinking.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Amami says.  “We can’t exchange motive videos.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma raises his eyebrows.  “Huuuh?  And why not?  Don’t tell me you <em> want </em> to get your head almost bashed in again!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami’s able to fight off the wince that tries to make its way out, but almost falters completely at the thought of Harukawa being the one to do it this time.  Amami swallows the lump in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Cooperation or no cooperation, it’s more important to prevent any more murders.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma scoffs, but looks no more bothered than he did before.  “Real big talk coming from mister ‘I’m going to stop the killing game and none of you can help’ over here!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami shrugs.  “My actions are consistent, if nothing else.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma laughs.  “Right!  Because you staring at Harukawa for fifteen minutes has <em> everything </em> to do with stopping the killing game!”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, fuck.</p><p> </p><p>He’s looking at Ouma, but in the side of his vision, Harukawa’s head <em> snaps </em> in his direction, and he can feel her glare burning a hole into his skin.  He tries not to be bothered by it, fails, and tries even harder not to even look in her direction.</p><p> </p><p>“And, well, if her video was <em> that much, </em>how could you not share with the class?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami frowns, hesitating slightly.  “It’s not my video,” he settles on. “That’s not my decision to make.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma sighs with melodrama, shaking his head.  “And yet you all claim to want to work together!  Could’ve fooled me, really.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ouma, please don’t antagonize them,” Akamatsu says, seeming to center in on the person she’s deemed the issue.  “I agree that we should all watch the videos, but singling them out is just bullying!”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand, Akamatsu,” Keebo says, deciding that it was time to ignore Ouma.  “Ouma’s logic makes no sense.  Why are you agreeing with it?”</p><p> </p><p>“‘Cause Akamatsu’s got brains!  Something a robot like you can’t understand!”</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring Ouma lasts all of five seconds. “Your robophobic comments are disgustingly tone deaf!  I will have you know that my creator--”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway!” Akamatsu says, loudly cutting Keebo off.  “It’s not that I agree with Ouma.  I just think it would be better for us as a group to watch all of the videos together!”</p><p> </p><p>“How so?” Chabashira asks.</p><p> </p><p>“If everyone knows why we’d have incentive to kill, then it would be easier to prevent the deaths from happening,” Akamatsu says.  “We’d all not only be aware of the severity of everyone’s videos and their reactions, but we’d also be able to discuss our feelings afterwards!”</p><p> </p><p>A silence hits.  Ouma starts giggling.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu blushes.  “W-What?  Did I say something wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma makes a gagging noise.  “What are we, twelve?  Do you really think I wanna spend my evening playin’ pattycake with you virgins ‘cause you can’t handle a video from pooh bear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-You don’t even know what’s on those videos!”  Yumeno says, surprising everyone with her vigor.  “You don’t know why people would be upset!”</p><p> </p><p>“Can it, donkey lips.  Can’t help that I’m just better than y’all!”</p><p> </p><p>“Good golly, Akamatsu,” Ouma says in between his giggles.  “I didn’t realize we were having group therapy with the school counselor!”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a school counselor?” Gokuhara unhelpfully supplies.</p><p> </p><p>“T-There’s nothing wrong with being upset by the video’s contents!” Akamatsu declares, more uncertain this time.  “That’s the point, isn’t it?  So it’d be good to talk about it!”</p><p> </p><p>“I do see your point, Akamatsu,” Shinguji replies evenly, “but I do not care to discuss my feelings on personal content with abject strangers.”</p><p> </p><p>“I...I understand that.  But, it would be a better way for us to bond--”</p><p> </p><p>“That statement was not for negotiation,” Shinguji cuts her off, lowering his voice slightly as he peers at her under the brim of his own hat.  “Even if we are to have a showing of the videos, I have no intention of discussing them.”</p><p> </p><p>“I...suppose this sort of plan only works if everyone cooperates…” Shirogane says, trailing off.</p><p> </p><p>“Look,” Harukawa says then.  Amami instinctively looks at her as her voice cuts through the unease of the room, and is thankful that her gaze is squared on Shirogane and Akamatsu.  It’s, well, murderous.  He sees the way Akamatsu stiffens and Shirogane actively flinches away.  Sure, Ouma and Iruma were loud and obnoxious, but Harukawa was able to cause discomfort without doing much at all outside of a glance.  It was powerful.  It was terrifying.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care what sort of stupid watch party you all decide to do.  But leave me and my video out of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma pouts.  “Aww, come on!  What’s the point if you’re not gonna be there?  You’re practically the main event, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa’s glare angles to Ouma now, and her eyes narrow ever so slightly with the way her lip minutely curls.  It’s subtle, but the effect is palpable.  Her entire disposition grows significantly icier, and Amami can’t help but shiver.</p><p> </p><p>Ouma, however, maintains the same pout and puppy dog eyes combo that even he knows won’t do crap.</p><p> </p><p>“My business is my business,” she snaps.  “Stay out of it.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and storming out of the room before anyone can say a word.  Ouma calls out that she’s a party pooper, but at that point, the door is already swinging shut.  Amami stands up to follow her, but finds himself rooted in his spot.  He fiddles with his bracelet instead, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>The room is silent, and all eyes are on him.</p><p> </p><p>“So…” Ouma says, eyebrow raised, “are you just gonna like, stand there?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami turns to him.  “Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma laughs, but it seems less malicious and more...baffled?  “You just propelled yourself up!  I thought for sure I was in a shoujo for a second here!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami frowns.  “It’s not like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t make him uncomfortable, Ouma!” Akamatsu says, looking more frustrated this time.</p><p> </p><p>“It...does sort of have shoujo vibes, doesn’t it?” Shirogane says, pushing her glasses up as a grin creeps onto her face.  “Harukawa’s very stoic, but Amami has this chill, playboy vibe to him…!”</p><p> </p><p>“Look what you did, you piece of shit!  Now you got her yappin’ about her dumb nerd shit in front of us!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami sighs.  “Guys, come on.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?  It’s basically no different from when you open your whore mouth.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eeek!  Who-o-ore??”</p><p> </p><p>“I think, perhaps, it would be best if you left to find Harukawa,” Shinguji supplies calmly.</p><p> </p><p>“I agree!”  Akamatsu cuts in, as Iruma and Ouma bicker and laugh in the background.  “Do you want someone to come with you?  I don’t mind!”</p><p> </p><p><em> Absolutely not, </em> his brain supplies.  Instead, he smiles.  “I don’t want to overwhelm her.  It would be best if I went alone, I think.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji nods.  “I agree with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You better treat Harukawa right!”  Chabashira yells with a huff.  “It’s bad enough that a degenerate like yourself got her video, so you should be super kind to her!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami laughs.  He doesn’t find it funny.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh!  Ooh!  If Harukawa kills you, tell her I’m suing her for kill-stealing!”</p><p> </p><p>Keebo sputters.  “Are you confessing to--”</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously that was a lie!” Ouma says with a grin.  “My audience is so lifeless here!  I give up on trying to please you all.”</p><p> </p><p>“That was trying to please us?!” Shirogane squeaks.</p><p> </p><p>“Gonta, let’s blow this popsicle stand!”</p><p> </p><p>“What?  Gonta too?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, duh!  Who else would promise to help me plan on a motive video swap, Iruma?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha!  You wish!  You’d be lucky to have a gorgeous girl genius like me help you out!”</p><p> </p><p>“Gonta promised that?!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara trails after Ouma, who’s sauntering out of the room at, for once, a decent pace.  As they leave, it’s Shirogane who sighs, frowning like a disappointed mother.</p><p> </p><p>“When will you be able to tell when he’s lying, Gonta?”</p><p> </p><p>“All that aside,” Amami says, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as he feels, “I’m gonna go catch up to Harukawa now.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji nods.  “That would probably be for the best.”</p><p> </p><p>“You say ‘catch up’ as if we don’t know where she went,” Iruma snaps, rolling her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, regardless,” Amami says as evenly as possible, and then heads out of the room.  In the background, he hears Chabashira saying something to Akamatsu, but doesn’t pay much mind to it.  There’s one thing on his mind, and it’s getting to Harukawa as quickly as possible.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The first thing Harukawa does when she gets back is beeline to the video.</p><p> </p><p>Intrinsically, she knows that she won’t see what she wants to see on it, but a small part of her clings to the idea that maybe Amami truly was just zoning out in her direction.  Perhaps he was tired, and he wasn’t really thinking, and he has absolutely no idea what could possibly be on it!</p><p> </p><p>She presses the Kubs Pad with enough force that she’s surprised she didn’t break it.  And on it, she sees the name Chabashira Tenko.</p><p> </p><p>The video plays for a moment, but Harukawa hears nothing, staring at the screen in silent shock.  Monokuma’s voice is no better than static in her ears as the realization that all of her efforts have come to nothing settles in.  After the moment passes, she snarls, picks the Kubs Pad up, and chucks it across the room with the full of her strength.  It slams against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>It truly is a testament of the technology their captors have that the video player doesn’t shatter into a million pieces, instead cracking slightly along the screen, but overall remaining in one piece and playing normally.  Harukawa stares at it on the ground, partially stunned, but more so focused on restraining herself mentally from taking a gun off of the wall and shooting it into next freaking tuesday.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, she grits her teeth, turns to the table, and slams her fist into it.  Under the haze of her anger, she’s surprised to discover that it’s hollow.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a knock on the lab door. A beat passes, and she doesn't move from her spot by the table, expecting the person to go away. But the beat ends with interrupted silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa?  It’s Amami.  I was hoping that maybe we could talk?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa freezes.</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, all is silent.  She holds her breath and he’s waiting, behind that door, for her to do something.  She could do nothing, wait him out, and starve in the room alone.  She could take a gun off the wall and shoot him clean between his eyes, watch the combination of blood and brains drip down the high school walls, and then take a machine gun to the rest of the students in order to avoid trial.</p><p> </p><p>She could, also, take her hand out of the table, open the door, and see where this takes her.  She opts for option three.</p><p> </p><p>She opens the door with an extreme amount of self-discipline, watching it slowly and gently crack open.  Her eyes drift to Amami’s and they meet once more, red to green, silent amidst the wood creaking.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you look so surprised?” she snaps after a beat.  “You’re the one who knocked.”</p><p> </p><p>He opens his mouth to say something, and fails, frowning.  He looks at her as though he sees through her, transparent and glassy and about to shatter at the slightest out-of-place breath.  Like he’s treading to her softly and slowly on the thinnest of ice - one wrong move, one wrong statement, and the entire thing shatters, and he’s left dead in the center of it all.</p><p> </p><p>That only serves to make her angrier.</p><p> </p><p>“Out with it or leave me alone.”</p><p> </p><p>He blinks.  Again, he opens his mouth to say something, and pauses.  But this time, he follows up rather quickly with a sigh.  One of his hands reaches to rub the back of his neck, and the boy looks to her with some indiscernible emotion that lives somewhere between guilt and pity.</p><p> </p><p>“I got your video.”</p><p> </p><p>She knows that already.  He knows that she knows - that’s why he’s here, after all.  Yet the statement is suffocating all the same.  Her breath catches and her heart squeezes and a wave of fear rushes down her being, but the only indicator of it is the way her hand grips around the door ever so tighter than before.  Harukawa exhales, and then pries herself from the floor, stepping aside.</p><p> </p><p>Silently, Amami enters the room.  He takes a few steps in and stops, staring at the array of weaponry and technology.  She doesn’t see his face as he does so, and he says nothing while he does it, so she closes the door gently and with the finality of knowing that when she turns around, her life is in danger.</p><p> </p><p>The door clicks when it shuts.  She turns around, staring at Amami, as his back faces her.  It would be so <em> easy </em> to snap his neck here.  He’s unassuming and in unfamiliar territory.  Everything in this lab is catered to death, and death is catered to her.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands twitch with an urge to escape this problem, to escape him, so she folds her arms together, stepping in front of the door to block it.</p><p> </p><p>“For someone who wants to talk, you’re very quiet.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami spins around at her words, looking wide-eyed and breathless.  He sticks out among the weapons, looking a bit deer-in-headlights.  He’s stiff as a board, his movements defensive in every shape of the word.</p><p> </p><p>Yet he’s here.  And for what?  To blackmail her?  He clears his throat and her eyes narrow at the sound.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.  I just...I didn’t really know what I was expecting coming in here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Surely not a nursery.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Definitely </em> not a nursery,” he says with an anxious laugh.  “But I have no basis for what an assassin’s...lair, is supposed to look like, so…”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes narrow.  “So the video told you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yeah,” his hand returns to the back of his neck.  “It didn’t really try to hide it.  Came right out and said it at the beginning, actually.”</p><p> </p><p>“Has anyone else seen it?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami shakes his head, and his expression grows more serious as his hand drops from his neck.  “I meant what I said back in the cafeteria.  I have no intention of sharing that video with anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then why come here?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s your video,” Amami says, as though it’s obvious.  “And, frankly, as much as I would have preferred to not talk about it at all, I kind of screwed up back there in front of everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“So what is this about, then?”  Harukawa says.  “Do you want the video I received?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami blinks.  “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I find it hard to believe that you just came here to tell me you know my secret.  What are you going to do with it?  Do you want something in return?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would I want something in return?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not an <em> idiot, </em> Amami, and I know you aren’t one either,” Harukawa snaps.  Her arms drop and she storms right up to him.  He takes a few steps backwards, his back thumping against the table behind him as she invades his space.  He’s so much taller than her, but in that moment he’s at her whim, leaning back against the table and away from her as she leans in with a glare and white-knuckled fists at her sides.  “Secrets have power.  You have the ability to tell every person in the school what I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t,” he says, his voice a drop lower, clearly attempting to hide the nervous strain to his words.  But Harukawa is a trained assassin - she knows that, he knows that - and she’s trained to know when her target’s emotions are on edge.  Emotions generate actions.  Actions need to be predicted in order to be prevented.  Her eyes are focused on his, but she doesn’t miss the way his brows twitch and his shoulders hunch back, or the way the palms of his hands are arched against the table so he would be able to push off it at any moment.  She’s already pinpointed every spot on his body that would be most optimal to incapacitate him and every spot to avoid based on sheer physicality differences.  </p><p> </p><p> If this is a game, like everything else in this hellish school, then Amami has already lost.  Even so, the ball is in his court.</p><p> </p><p>“And I’m supposed to believe that?  Just on your word alone?”  She huffs out a small laugh, but it’s mocking him.  Her hands plant beside his on the table, just far enough that they aren’t touching, but close enough that he’ll be conscious of their presence.  It helps steady her as she leans farther into his space, and she doesn’t miss how his eyes widen slightly and dart to their hands and back.  “If you think I’m that much of a fool, you’ll regret it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m being honest.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you wanna die, Amami?” she says, low and quiet, yet she sees the way he stiffens at the words.  “Is that why you’re here?  Do you want me to kill you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not scared of you,” he says, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. </p><p> </p><p>She hums.  “I really thought you were a better liar than that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I hate to be a disappointment,” he says with a lazy grin.</p><p> </p><p>In an instant, faster than he can process, she pulls him off of the table and slams him onto the ground.  She’s on top of him before he can even collect his bearings, merely seconds after, and by the time his eyes open in full recognition of what happened she’s already straddling him with a knife to his throat and his hands pinned above his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like to hear that again,” she says, unphased.  “That you’re not scared of me.”</p><p> </p><p>He stares up at her, stunned.</p><p> </p><p>“You might know my talent,” she continues, her eyes boring into his, lacking any ounce of emotion, “and perhaps you know a few other details of my past.  But, clearly, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-If you--” he pauses to swallow thickly against the knife, “If you wanted me dead, I would have been killed already.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa blinks.  “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” Amami says, a newer, wilder look in his eyes, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re capable of, aside from being able to kill me.  And I don’t know you very well either.  But if you wanted to kill me - or anyone really - you would’ve taken the first blood perk, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami pauses, clearly waiting for a response, but Harukawa doesn’t give one.  </p><p> </p><p>“But you didn’t,” he continues, after a moment.  “You didn’t take it and you’ve hidden your talent.  To me, that isn’t someone who wants to kill me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you wanna die?” she snaps, pressing the knife slightly harder.</p><p> </p><p>“Not particularly!” Amami says with a strained laugh.  “I just wanted to tell you that, despite your talent, I don’t think of you as a bad person.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa pauses, her entire thought process coming to a stop.  She leans back a bit, looking and feeling somewhere between confused, shocked, and disgusted.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you an idiot?”</p><p> </p><p>He looks almost as baffled as she does when she says that.  </p><p> </p><p>“You...seriously watched a video where they told you my talent is killing people,” Harukawa says in disbelief.  “And you think I’m a good person?”</p><p> </p><p>“I said I don’t think of you as a bad person,” Amami gently corrects.  “Jury’s still out on anything past that.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa stares at him a moment longer, and then releases his hands from her vice grip and pulls back her knife.</p><p> </p><p>“You seriously are an idiot,” she says as she stands up, brushing her skirt off and hiding her knife again.  She’s storming away from him to sit down on the table as he sits up, rubbing at his wrists with uncertainty.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think it’s stupidity,” Amami says, voice unnervingly even.  “I explained my logic.  If you wanted, you could easily kill everyone in this school.  It’s not like there’s a limit.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, she’s acutely aware of that fact.  Despite that, she says nothing in response, eyeing him with caution.</p><p> </p><p>“But you didn’t.  Haven’t.  Don’t seem to really want to, since you’ve locked yourself in here.”  He’s standing up now, staring Harukawa down.  “You say I have the power in this scenario, but the way I see it, you’re the one who could snap my neck, hide the body where no one will find it, and be done with it.  Not me.”</p><p> </p><p>“There are plenty of ways to kill someone without needing power or technique.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the one who has the room full of guns.”</p><p> </p><p>Fine, Harukawa can concede one point.  Her eyes narrow.</p><p> </p><p>Amami sighs again.  “I know I can’t prove to you that I won’t tell anyone.  But I do mean it.  I’m not going to say anything to the others about your talent, nor will I share the video with anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa says nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“And, if it’s alright with you, I’d still like to bring you food,” Amami continues, albeit more hesitant than before.  He starts fiddling with his rings again.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why indeed,” he says to himself with a wry smile, and looks off to the side.  “Against my better judgement, I want to believe in you.”</p><p> </p><p>A few thoughts cross her mind at those words.  <em> Why me? </em> is the loudest of them.  <em> What’s so great about me?  I’m a killer.  I’m not human.  I hurt people. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Get out,” is what comes out of her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Amami’s eyes dart back to hers.  The uncertainty must show on her face, because instead of being insulted, he smiles at her, with a kind of gentleness that makes her stomach flip and her heart plummet.  She’s touched; she’s disgusted.  She doesn’t deserve that sort of care.  She also literally almost killed him, and cannot comprehend his thought process.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you later, Harukawa,” he says, turning his back to her and heading out of the room.  He opens the door with the same tenderness, and closes it gently, a soft click resounding the room.</p><p> </p><p>All is silent again.  She stares, mouth agape at the sudden emptiness in the room, and all she can process is how much she wants to punch something again.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Let Gonta run through this,” Gokuhara says, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.</p><p> </p><p>Ouma waves him off flippantly.  “Whatever you need to do, big man.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, Ouma wants to have insect meet and greet?”</p><p> </p><p>“With the other students, yes,” Ouma supplies cheerily.  “We bring everyone here to your lab so that they can experience the joys of bugs!”</p><p> </p><p>“Gonta thinks that is wonderful idea!”  Gokuhara says.  “Still, Gonta confused.  How does that relate to video playing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Gonta, that’s the easiest part!” Ouma laughs boisterously.  “Once everyone has met the bugs, we’ll have the showing as a grand finale!  We’ll play all of the videos for everyone to see right here in your lab!  I mean, can you think of anywhere else cosier?”</p><p> </p><p>“But what if they don’t want to watch videos?” Gokuhara says with a frown.  “Gonta has Shirogane’s video, and it was sad!  Bug meeting should be about having good time!  It not gentlemanly to make people do sad things!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, but think about how much better Shirogane will feel when she’s seen her video!  She’ll be all ‘wow Gonta, that was so kawaii desu of you to share with me!’”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara cocks his head.  “Gonta confused by those words.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s either that jargon or not noticing her at all.  An-y-wayyy,” Ouma leans back, stretching his arms behind his neck, “it’s going to make everyone happier in the long run.  And that’s what you wanna do, right?  Make everyone happy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-Yes!  Gonta do want everyone happy!”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.  So the meet and greet is the best way to do it!  Does tomorrow evening work for you?”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara nods.  “Tomorrow evening perfect!  Gonta will make sure everyone comes!  Everyone can meet bugs and be happy!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara stands up to start preparing, rattling off ideas about which bugs would be most suitable for the event, so on and so forth.  Ouma almost feels bad, manipulating him like this, but the upfront approach didn’t work so really, it’s everyone else’s fault.</p><p> </p><p>He was a little shocked to see Akamatsu agree with him, but then she had to go fuck it up with her goody-two-shoes bullshit therapy session, and now he had to resort to bugs.  He repeats those thoughts in his mind - that this is Akamatsu’s fault, so Akamatsu will deal with the bugs tomorrow.  Not him.  Everything would be fine.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t matter too much to him at this point if everyone saw the videos.  Akamatsu’s idea was the smartest - she wasn’t the former leader of their group for no reason, after all - but if he showed everyone the videos and gave them no time to discuss, a murder was bound to happen.  So, getting everyone in the same room was the best option.  He can watch the videos himself and parse the playing field, and perhaps if he can snag Akamatsu onto his side, they can force everyone to watch and discuss together.  Not that that was a very likely outcome.  But, again, it was more important that he knew what was going on more than anyone else.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Ouma!  Do you think there is time to bug hunt during meeting?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bug hunt?  But there aren’t any bugs here; you said that yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!  Gonta forgot to say since it so busy today!”  He turns to Ouma with a grin.  “Gonta did see bugs!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma represses the urge to scoff.  “Oh yeah?  Where’d you see them?”</p><p> </p><p>“They hard to see, since they small bugs!  But Gonta have trained eyesight!  Gonta sometimes sees little bugs flying around!”</p><p> </p><p>Specks of dust, surely, or maybe a sign of him finally losing it.  Poor Gokuhara, so desperate for normalcy that he’s imagining tiny little bugs, zooming around his glasses, swatting at flies barely within their reality.  Well, actually, Gokuhara wouldn’t swat at them.  He’d probably get a net and try to catch it for examination.</p><p> </p><p>Still, as funny as it is, it’s a little sad.  Maybe a little more than a little sad.  It doesn’t hurt anyone to indulge him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh wow!” Ouma says, eyes alight with fictitious interest.  “That’s soooo crazy!  Have you figured out what kind of bugs they are?”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara frowns at that, shaking his head.  “Gonta can’t tell.  Gonta never seen bugs like them before.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.  You’re the ultimate bug man!”</p><p> </p><p>“Gonta hope so.  But Gonta check every book he have, and Gonta not see anything similar!”  </p><p> </p><p>Oh please, as if bugs didn’t all look the same to begin with.  Ouma rolls his eyes in spirit; physically, he smiles a little wider.  “Maybe it’ll be a new discovery!”</p><p> </p><p>That makes Gokuhara turn to him, face lit up like a Christmas tree.  “Gonta never make new discovery before!”</p><p> </p><p>“First time for everything, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara grins, mostly to himself, clearly dazzled at the idea of scientific wonder.  Frankly, Ouma thought he was nuts.  The entire place was clearly handcrafted by their captors.  Why would they accidentally let <em> one </em> species of bug in?</p><p> </p><p>“That would be exciting!  Gonta happy to share bugs with friends!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma wasn’t.  Bugs...bugged him.  The thought makes him snicker to himself, as Gokuhara gushes over his equipment about making a new discovery.  Sometimes he really was just too funny!  What if he said the joke aloud?  Would that <em> bug </em> Gokuhara?  Well, probably not.  He seemed the type to enjoy those things.  Maybe if he got a recording device and <em> bugged </em> Gokuhara, he could hear what kind of jokes Gokuhara liked to--</p><p> </p><p>Wait.</p><p> </p><p>Ouma’s grin drops.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Gonta,” Ouma says, trying to keep his voice light.  “What did you say those bugs looked like again?”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara hums.  “It hard to say.  They very hard to see.  When Gonta did see them, there were many all over the place!  They very small, and fly anywhere!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma stays silent, processing the words.  They’re small.  They can go anywhere.  No one can see them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But they would see everything. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“That sure is crazy!” Ouma says, though his face shows none of his voice’s enthusiasm.  “I’m gonna go see if I can find some!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara spins around.  “Gonta want to join!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma shakes his head.  “What if the bugs see us together and hide somewhere else?  We’ll cover more ground if we go separate!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara pauses, considering.  He nods.  “Good point.  Bugs may be shy!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ex-actly!  So I’m gonna head out now!” Ouma stands up from the table, sauntering over to the door, hiding the urgency in his steps with a bit of buoyancy.  “And remember: if you see me, look somewhere else!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara nods, ever serious.  “Okay!  Gonta remember that!”</p><p> </p><p>Gokuhara remembered a lot of things, apparently.  Ouma decides, as he heads out of the lab with his head held high and his grin held tighter, that using Gokuhara was the best idea he’s had since he got here.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Kid, what are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara, barely fighting off every urge in his body to look away, tries his best to give a grin that doesn’t look terribly strained.  He fails, clearly.  He can feel it in the way Hoshi looks at him.  Mercifully, Hoshi doesn’t comment on it.</p><p> </p><p>“I, u-um--” Saihara clears his throat.  “I was hoping we could, u-um, play tennis.”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi rolls the candy cigarette between his lips.  “I told you I don’t do that anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“W-Well, I just--” Saihara’s voice cracks, and his grimaces.  “I was, um, hoping we could h-hang out.  I wasn’t sure...what else to try.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a moment of silence before Hoshi sighs, walking over to where Saihara stands in his lab.  Hoshi gently takes the racket out of Saihara’s hands, and then points to a machine behind Saihara.</p><p> </p><p>“See that over there?”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara swivels to look at it, then looks back.  “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Go turn that on.  All the way on.  I’m gonna show you why we’re not playing tennis.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara blinks, and then scurries over to the machine, flicking it on all of the way as instructed.  It whirs as it comes to life, and Saihara stumbles back.</p><p> </p><p>It starts <em> rapid fire </em> shooting tennis balls, startling Saihara.  His head whips over to Hoshi, a shout on his tongue, but it completely dies when his eyes land on the other boy.</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi is hitting every single ball as it flies in his direction with ease.  He darts around the field as though it’s nothing, showing no signs of fatigue, no sweat on his face, nothing at all.  All in a leather jacket, no less.</p><p> </p><p>One ball whizzes past Saihara’s head, nearly knocking off his hat; he rushes to hold it down so it doesn’t fly away, just as the ball hits the side of the machine, turning the dial all the way back to off.  The machine clunks, and winds down.</p><p> </p><p>“O-Oh,” Saihara chokes out.  “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi huffs out a small laugh.  “You have nothing to apologize for.”  He tosses the racket down onto the ground of the field.  “Figured it would be easier than explaining.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara nods.  “I’m sorry for bothering you, I-I can leave--”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to leave,” Hoshi says, cutting him off.  “I wanted to apologize to you, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?  You don’t have anything to apologize for.”</p><p> </p><p>“What I was saying earlier was uncool of me,” he says easily.  “It seems I’ve still got a ways to go.”</p><p> </p><p>“N-No!  It’s alright, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Saihara says quickly.  “I-I...I understand why you were so passionate about it.  I don’t think we should share the videos, but…I do get it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you?” Hoshi says tonelessly.  “Do you understand why I want to see that video, Saihara?”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara opens his mouth to say <em> yes, I do know, </em> but stops himself, knowing that it would give away the video he has, and the whole point was to make sure Hoshi <em> didn’t </em>see it.  </p><p> </p><p>“Everyone I’ve ever cared about is dead,” Hoshi says, matter-of-fact.  “If those videos show my most important person...well, that’s someone I’d like to know.  That’s someone that could drive me to find more of a reason to work with you all.”</p><p> </p><p>Of course, Saihara had some trouble relating to that.  Despite the fact that he had his own host of self-confidence issues, Saihara knew pretty well that it was probably his uncle on the video.  That in and of itself was unnerving, but at least there was someone there that he mattered to.  But who knew if his uncle was even alive?</p><p> </p><p>Saihara grimaces.</p><p> </p><p>“I...have been lucky, in that regard, that I can’t relate there,” Saihara begins, “but I do understand the feeling.”</p><p> </p><p>“The feeling of everyone you care about being dead?”</p><p> </p><p>“The feeling of being unsure if you matter to anyone,” Saihara says, finally meeting Hoshi’s eyes.  “Alive or dead...that’s a feeling I’ve struggled with.  A-And, I just wanted to let you know, I guess, that you do matter.  To me.  Regardless of what that video says.”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi remains silent, but his face says it all: <em> you’re just saying that. </em></p><p> </p><p>“And...and I’m not just saying that,”  he drops eye contact in favor of tugging at his hat.  “It’s...been hard to trust anyone.  Especially l-lately.  But, um, when it comes to you, I…”</p><p> </p><p><em> I feel similar to you, </em> is what he wants to say.  It catches somewhere in his throat, and he chokes up instead.</p><p> </p><p>A silent moment passes, and Hoshi sighs again, heavy and weighted.  He chews the last bit of his candy cigarette, his gaze drifting over to the cellar block walls.</p><p> </p><p>“I got your video.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara stops breathing, looking up to Hoshi with blown out eyes.  “Wh...what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your video,” Hoshi repeats.  “I got it.  Felt like it would be shitty of me to keep that to myself after that speech.”</p><p> </p><p>“W-We aren’t, um, supposed to tell anyone--”</p><p> </p><p>“I tend to break rules,” Hoshi says dryly.  “If you want to see it, I’d be willing to make a trade.”</p><p> </p><p>Again, Saihara’s breath catches, as Hoshi meets his eyes once more.  There’s a knowing look in there, somewhere, and it’s that look that seems to catch Saihara unawares.  It’s a challenge, but not a pressuring one; one that is politely offering Saihara to step up to the mantle and take the reins, while not outright forcing him to do anything any which way.</p><p> </p><p>Simply put, it’s exactly the small kind of authority that Saihara needs.  Whether or not Hoshi knows that is beyond Saihara, but it’s his move now, and he knows what to say.</p><p> </p><p>“I appreciate it, Hoshi.  But I don’t need to see it.”</p><p> </p><p>Hoshi studies him for a moment, letting out a small hum.  “Suit yourself,” he says after it all.  “Come here.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara hesitates, but ultimately agrees, heading over to Hoshi’s side of the tennis court once more.  When he arrives, Hoshi hands him the racket.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t play tennis anymore,” Hoshi says, flippant.  “But, if you’re interested, it couldn’t hurt to teach you.”</p><p> </p><p>Saihara, for the first time in what felt like a long time, smiles.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Tenko thinks she’s in love with Yumeno!”</p><p> </p><p>If you ask Akamatsu how she got to this point, she wouldn’t be quite sure herself.  Chabashira is bright red, fiddling with her skirt, leaning in close to Akamatsu as she quietly professes her crush on the tiny mage across the room.  Said tiny mage is chattering excitedly to Yonaga and Shirogane about her plans for the magic show they decided they would put on in two days, showcasing her magical talent.  It’s the most exuberant Akamatsu has ever seen Yumeno be in the...week?  Maybe?  That they’ve known each other.</p><p> </p><p>A week.  The week has felt like an eternity.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, why don’t you say something to her?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tenko can’t just <em> say </em> something to her!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure you can!” Akamatsu says with a smile.  “Being upfront is the best way!  You’re super cute, Chabashira.  Who would say no to you?”</p><p> </p><p>The comment only serves to make Chabashira blush further, burying her face into her hands.  “Oooh, Akamatsu, you’re just too nice!  Tenko is gonna die!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu frowns.  “Please don’t talk like that, Chabashira.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, sorry!  Tenko wasn’t thinking properly!  Tenko just doesn’t know what to do!”</p><p> </p><p>Yonaga’s laugh echoes the room at something Yumeno says, and it makes Yumeno’s face brighten up with a grin before she starts rattling off on another topic.  Yonaga hovers around her, interested in everything Yumeno is saying, yet still somehow seeming detached.  Yonaga had that quality about her in general, as though she wasn’t quite there with them - instead, a higher entity of her own right, guiding them along with a gentle hand.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps it should have unnerved Akamatsu more, but she didn’t want to judge.  And in her opinion, she didn’t quite have the right to.  Chabashira, however, seemed to have a different idea, scowling at Yonaga’s laughter as the duo moved on to another part of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you and Yonaga alright?” Akamatsu asks.  It’s not that she wants to gossip, but it’s better if everyone gets along, right? </p><p> </p><p>Chabashira looks to Akamatsu, then back to Yonaga, and then back again.  “Tenko doesn’t trust Yonaga,” Chabashira says quietly, barely above a whisper.  “Everything with God is just fishy!”</p><p> </p><p>“You think so?” Akamatsu says, uncertain.  “I mean, no one here is as religious as she is, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yonaga uses God as a means to brainwash people!  Yonaga is brainwashing Yumeno right now!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu looks back over to where Yonaga and Yumeno are.  Yonaga is gently petting one of Yumeno’s doves as she explains the details of a trick.  Shirogane admires the doves from a healthy distance, smiling to herself.</p><p> </p><p>“Brainwashing...is a bit extreme, I think,” Akamatsu says gently.  “I think Yonaga just has some trouble connecting with people.”</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira looks taken aback.  “Connecting?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I don’t know.  Growing up I was always called Piano Freak because my only interest was the piano.  When Yonaga talks about God, it feels similar.  She’s really passionate about it!  Maybe she doesn’t know how to connect well with others, so she’s trying to share things she’s interested in and make it applicable to other people?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tenko...didn’t think of it like that,” Chabashira says, deflating.  “Now Tenko just feels mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Chabashira, you were looking out for her!  That’s not mean!”  Akamatsu assures, grabbing onto her hands.  “It’s really sweet of you to care so much about Yumeno.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tenko is just being jealous, isn’t she?” Chabashira says sadly.  “Tenko just wants to help, and yet…”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu shakes her head.  “It’s totally normal to be jealous.  Chabashira, you’re so pretty and passionate and strong and Yumeno is lucky to have you in her life!  Please don’t beat yourself up over this.  You deserve the world!”</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira stares at her, stunned, and then crushes Akamatsu in the tightest hug she’s ever been a part of.  Akamatsu laughs, hugging her back. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re too kind, Akamatsu,” Chabashira mumbles into her shoulders.  “How do you always think of others?”</p><p> </p><p>“I could ask you the same thing,” Akamatsu says with a smile, and that smile widens as Chabashira pulls back to look at her.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu always wanted to be friends with everyone in the group, but it was almost surreal to her to see how the cards folded after the first week, and who she deemed herself closest to.  On day one, she’d thought her closest friends would be Saihara and Momota; now, one of them was completely uninterested in speaking to her, and the other was dead.  Instead, Chabashira was gushing about a crush while Shirogane and Yonaga helped plan the magic show.</p><p> </p><p>The past week had been rough on Akamatsu, but things always did seem to work out somehow, right? </p><p> </p><p>“I support you, Chabashira,” Akamatsu says with a smile, genuine and whole and loving, “And if you want to confess, I’m on your side to help you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you Akamatsu!” Chabashira says, grinning wide with a rosy dust to her cheeks.  “You’re so wonderful!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Akamatsu is wonderful!” Shirogane says suddenly, popping into the conversation from beside them.  Akamatsu jumps slightly - she hadn’t noticed Shirogane come over to them! - but smiles warmly at Shirogane nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>“I should be saying that about you two.  You’ve both done so much for the group despite everything.  You’re both so strong!”</p><p> </p><p>“You say that as if you haven’t helped, Akamatsu,” Shirogane points out.  “Everything you’ve done has been for everyone else!  You’re really incredible!”</p><p> </p><p>That was true - every decision she’d made from the day they got here was for everyone’s benefit.  But that was ultimately her downfall, in the end, the down-fall of the shot put that never quite was.  The comment should have made her happier.  When had Shirogane ever done something to be mean to her?  But the words only served to remind her of why she ended up where she did in the first place.  Almost betraying Saihara, and everyone else, to have a shot at killing the mastermind...would Shirogane and Chabashira still be by her side if she truly stained her hands in blood?</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu wipes her hands on her skirt for good measure, straining to keep up her smile against the assuage of guilt that churns in her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, she diverts the conversation.  “How’s the planning going, Shirogane?  Anything we can help with?”</p><p> </p><p>Shirogane shakes her head.  “Yumeno said she’s going to focus on practicing today.  Tomorrow we’ll be able to set up the gym and run through a full dress rehearsal.  There’s going to be a trick with piranhas!”</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira pales.  “Isn’t that dangerous?!  Yumeno could get hurt!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m plainly sure Yumeno would know what she’s doing...right?”  Despite her words, Chabashira’s declaration makes Shirogane look uneasy.</p><p> </p><p>“Yumeno!” Chabashira yells, gaining Yumeno and Yonaga’s attentions from across the room.  While Yonaga maintains a grin, Yumeno’s face drops a bit at the sight of Chabashira waving to them.  Akamatsu winces at the sight of it - she’s rooting for Chabashira’s happiness, of course, but...Yumeno didn’t seem to have the same feelings Chabashira did.</p><p> </p><p>“Is there a problem, Tenko?” Yonaga says, voice as sugary sweet as always.</p><p> </p><p>“Tenko heard that there will be piranhas in one of your spells!” Chabashira declares, storming over to where Yonaga and Yumeno stand.  “Are you sure that’s safe?  Tenko doesn’t want you getting hurt!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve practiced it plenty of times,” Yumeno drawls.  “And I’m going to be practicing it plenty more.”</p><p> </p><p>“Himiko is super talented, you know?” Yonaga says.  “God is smiling upon her talent!  She will succeed with flying colors!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be saving my mana reserves for the big show,” Yumeno says, attempting to sound assuring.  Chabashira frowns a little harder at it.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu steps forward.  “It’s totally fair of Chabashira to be a bit nervous about it, you know?  But there’s plenty of time to practice and make sure the tri--um, spell, goes well.  So let’s focus our efforts on making sure that Yumeno’s performance goes perfectly, and trust in her...mana!”</p><p> </p><p>That seems to quell Yumeno, and the slight amount of anger that was beginning to seep into her features calms down.  Chabashira smiles at the mediation, and Yonaga claps her hands together and laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Well said, Kaede!  How divine!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu laughs awkwardly.  “Thanks, I guess!”</p><p> </p><p>“Since that is settled, Angie wants to make another suggestion!  There should be snacks after the show!”</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira lights back up.  “That’s a good idea!  We can bring some extra tables in from the storage room and set them up by the doors for after the performance!”</p><p> </p><p>“Nyeh...can we have cake?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can make some cake!” Shirogane says with a smile.  “It might be a bit plain, but I’ll put my all into it!”</p><p> </p><p>“I can help,” Akamatsu offers.  “With moving, or baking, or anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Marvelous, marvelous!  Nyahaha, this will be a wonderful experience for everyone!”</p><p> </p><p>At those words, Shirogane and Chabashira began discussing their setup plans for the gym, chattering excitedly about what angle the stage should go at, how many rows of chairs they should have, and more.  Yumeno, despite looking tired, did her best to remain engaged in the conversation, latched to Yonaga’s side - the latter of whom still looked as though she wasn’t truly among them, a grin as bright as the sun itself.</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu looked between all of them, her friends, and felt...warm.  Comfortable.  Cared for.  And just a bit more secure than she had in days.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>When Amami walks into the cafeteria, he’s surprised to find the entire class together again, chatting amicably in their respective cliques over food, sitting in the same seats as the day before.  Everyone seemed to have calmed down after the debacle of that morning, and for a second, everything felt normal.</p><p> </p><p>But, just as before, Harukawa wasn’t there.  Amami gently touches his neck as he makes his way to his seat beside Shinguji, his fingers tracing the spot where the knife had been.  There was no visible mark, but he could still feel the way the blade pressed against his skin, threatening to slit it with one fluid, perfected movement.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa may not be present, but as he sits down, he can feel the weight of her red-eyed glare atop him once more.  He smiles a little harder, greeting Shinguji as he toys with the food on his plate.</p><p> </p><p>“How was Harukawa?” Shinguji, ever the mind reader, asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, she obviously wasn’t happy,” Amami says.  “But we talked it out.”</p><p> </p><p>“So it is safe of me to presume that she is still in her lab?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami nods.  He’s unsure if he’ll be able to convince her to come out of there, honestly, especially if their next conversation goes anything like their first.  There’s only so many knives he can take to the throat before it becomes difficult for him to handle.</p><p> </p><p>“I figured she wouldn’t leave,” Iruma pipes in from across the table.  “That bitch has a stick shoved so far up her ass you could probably twirl her like cotton candy with it!”</p><p> </p><p>“I hate that imagery,” Amami says with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Iruma, it is rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations!” Keebo says from beside her.  Then he turns to Amami and Shinguji as well.  “That being said, I was wondering how she was doing as well.”</p><p> </p><p>“No better or worse than anyone else here, I’d imagine,” Amami says.  “Well...maybe a little worse.  But she’s alive.”</p><p> </p><p>“And that is the important part,” Shinguji says with a nod.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it truly living?  Locking yourself in a room with fuckin’ baby toys all day?  Like what does she do?”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji’s eyebrows raise.  “That is a good point.  There are only so many things one can do in a child caregiver’s room.”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma leans back in her chair.  “I can’t picture that angry bitch frolicking with stuffed animals.  You think she’s got legos in there?”</p><p> </p><p>“If she has hot wheels, on god, I’ll break in there myself,” Ouma chirps happily from Iruma’s other side.</p><p> </p><p>Iruma makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a moan.  “Someone <em> please </em>stop me from making a hot wheels track, because I might cum at the thought of it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’t make a hot wheels track,” Amami says.</p><p> </p><p>“Please make a hot wheels track!” Ouma says, eyes twinkling.</p><p> </p><p>“I do not have a preference, but I am extremely disgusted at the thought of you finishing while I am eating a meal in front of you,” Shinguji offers.  “Please go be disturbing somewhere else.”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma squeals.  “Tits on <em> christ </em> if you weren’t so creepy that would’ve been <em> so </em> hot!”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji scowls.</p><p> </p><p>“If I may change the subject,” Keebo offers.  “I am confused at what hot wheels are.  What is enticing about hot wheels?”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma shrieks.  “Keebo what the fuck!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma frowns and shakes his head.  “If technology can make robots, why can’t it make robots cultured?”</p><p> </p><p>“W-What’s that supposed to mean?!  I know plenty about culture!”</p><p> </p><p>“As the resident expert on culture at this table,” Shinguji says, “hot wheels are a brand of toy cars.  They do not represent a culture, Keebo.”</p><p> </p><p>“B-But Ouma--”</p><p><br/>“Nishishi!  That was a lie, you dumb robot!” Ouma says, grinning like wild.  “It was just a statement expressing incredulity!  You’d think your stupid brain would be able to process that much at least!”</p><p> </p><p>“Your comments are unnecessarily outrageous!  You...you...cretin!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma starts wailing at the top of his lungs.  “WAHHHH!  Amami!  Why is he so <em> mean </em> to me?!”</p><p> </p><p>Amami shakes his head, fighting off the grin that attempts to overtake his features.  “I can’t help you if you’re gonna be shooting your own leg out, here.”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma cackles.  “Even Amami abandoned you!  What comes next, you punk?”</p><p> </p><p>“Amami would never abandon me!”  Ouma whines, sticking his tongue out.  “Right, big bro Amami?”</p><p> </p><p><em> I absolutely would </em>is on the tip of tongue, but then he looks over to Ouma with his wide eyes and crocodile tears and every ounce of his resolve crumbles, as it always tends to.  He averts his eyes, hesitating on answering.</p><p> </p><p>“Ha!  That’s a yes!” Iruma says.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it is not,” Shinguji replies, amusement sparkling in his eyes.  </p><p> </p><p>“I think I should go,” Amami chokes out.  “Harukawa needs food.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, you fuckin’ loser!”  Iruma shouts as Amami stands up.  She reaches for a piece of her dinner, clearly with intent to throw, but Keebo practically throws himself on top of her to stop her.</p><p> </p><p>“Iruma!  Please do not throw food!  We do not want to cause a food fight!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes the fuck we do, Keebs!”</p><p> </p><p>“But big brother!” Ouma cries, looking distressed, “Are you really gonna leave me here with these psychopaths?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Speak for yourself, you piece of shit gremlin!”</p><p> </p><p>“Take this as a lesson from your big bro,” Amami says with a wink.  “All actions have consequences.”</p><p> </p><p>Although entirely unplanned, at that moment, Iruma and Keebo’s wrestling accidentally knocks into Ouma, nearly toppling him over.  He loses his balance with an undignified squeak, crashing into Gokuhara.  He pouts, kicking at Iruma to get her off.</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji stands up beside Amami.  “I think I should also get going.  It is getting far too rowdy for my taste.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami hesitates.  It would be good to have someone come with him to Harukawa’s, sure, but at the same time, it would be far better to be able to talk to her alone.  “Are you coming with me?” he asks, hoping his uncertainty didn’t show.</p><p> </p><p>Mercifully, Shinguji shakes his head.  “I do not mind walking back to the dorms together, but I have reading I would like to catch up on.”  He smiles beneath the mask, his eyes crinkling.  “I trust you wouldn’t kill Harukawa when you are the prime suspect.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami laughs good-naturedly at that, and the two walk over to the girl group on the far end of the table.  Having Shinguji with him was helpful.  While he and Akamatsu had sorted things out on the surface, Chabashira didn’t like him on principle, and he wouldn’t fault the others for not being quite fond of him either.</p><p> </p><p>The girls stop talking when they realize Amami and Shinguji are approaching them, but Akamatsu perks up with a kind, benevolent smile.  “Hi guys!  What’s up?”</p><p> </p><p>Amami gives an awkward wave.  “I was wondering if I could get a plate for Harukawa?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course you can!  I’ll get that made for you right now!”  Akamatsu hops out of her seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Akamatsu.  It means a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“No problem!” she says, grinning even as she walks over to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira sniffs, turning up her nose at him.  “You should count yourself lucky that Akamatsu is kind to a menace like you.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami rubs his neck, unsure of how to respond to that.  “I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am very grateful for your assistance,” Shinguji says.  “You have all been going above and beyond in the past few days, especially with organizing the meals.  I am not much of a chef myself, so I was concerned about having edible food.  I had believed that losing Tojo and Momota would throw the group into a bit of disarray, but you all managed to keep it together.”</p><p> </p><p>Chabashira sputters.  “Well--you--yes.  T-Tenko is glad that you recognize that!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu comes back out with a plate of food.  “Here you are, Amami!” she says.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks again, Akamatsu.  Have a good evening, you guys.”</p><p> </p><p>“You too!”</p><p> </p><p>Akamatsu, Shirogane, and Yonaga all wave.  Chabashira refuses to acknowledge them, turning away with a light harumph, while Yumeno dazedly eats her food.  Amami and Shinguji exit the room in a comfortable silence.</p><p> </p><p>When the cafeteria doors swing shut, Amami looks to Shinguji.</p><p> </p><p>“You really can’t cook well?”</p><p> </p><p>Shinguji laughs.  “Of course I can.”</p><p> </p><p>At that, Amami laughs full, real, genuine laughter, and the two head over to the dorms.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>(before he heads over to harukawa’s lab, amami leaves a note in his room.</p><p>it details harukawa’s talent in the event that he disappears.</p><p>he may have promised not to show anyone the video,</p><p>or to say anything about her talent,</p><p>but she’s the one with a room full of guns and a knife to his throat.</p><p>if she takes him down,</p><p>then she’s going down with him.)</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>There’s a knock on the door of the lab.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa looks up from the book she’s reading on the air mattress and sighs, folding the page corner and setting it aside.  She stretches when she stands up, arching her back until it makes a satisfying crack, and then heads over to the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa?  It’s me, Ama--” he stops himself when she opens the door.  Before even acknowledging him, she looks to each side of him to make sure no one is there.</p><p> </p><p>“I brought you--”</p><p> </p><p>“Get in.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa steps to the side, giving him room to enter.  He obliges, albeit with slight hesitance.  Just like earlier in the day, Amami’s eyes immediately scan the room, looking around at the weaponry and tech with a stilted sort of wonder.</p><p> </p><p>“Amami.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami snaps out of his reverie, tearing his eyes away from the display and back to her.  He’s surprisingly calm, she notes, much more than earlier, and smiles lightly as he hands her the plate.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you that you didn’t have to do this.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I told you I would,” he replies, not missing a beat.  “I’m not sure who made it today, but I had some myself.  It’s pretty good.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not that hungry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you didn’t have breakfast,” Amami replies, smiling a little tighter.  He had her there, and he knew it.  Begrudgingly, she took the plate and started eating.</p><p> </p><p>The silence was awkward.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I think your lab is cool,” Amami says, tone even.  “It looks like something out of a spy movie.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a spy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.  But you’ve done similar work, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa shrugs.  “Maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not trying to be invasive, I was just saying.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa rolls her eyes.  “I didn’t say ‘maybe’ because I was trying to be coy.  I don’t know much about spies.  I don’t know if we do similar things.”</p><p> </p><p>“Haven’t you seen James Bond?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami falters.  “Mission Impossible?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“Atomic Blonde?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a spy movie,” Harukawa snaps.  “I don’t even know those titles.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”  Amami pauses, thinking for a second.  “Well, in spy movies, the spies usually go undercover to take out a high profile target with nefarious plans.  It requires them going on a big trip with a lot of conflict.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa chews thoughtfully, considering the statement.  “I can see the similarities.  I have gone undercover before.  But my targets aren’t always high profile, nor are they always necessarily doing bad things.  There’s nothing really showy about it, either.  Not every assassination is an upfront, bright lights job.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami folds his arms, a light smile on his face.  “I can imagine.  It’s probably just sniping people from a nearby building, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa nods.  “Most of the time.  If you want someone dead, you don’t want to make a scene.”  She takes another bite of her food.  “Although, there have been some more conspicuous ones.  I turned a five story building into a four story one, once.”</p><p> </p><p>Amami’s smile drops.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve killed bad people, sure, but I’ve also killed totally normal people.  The only thing that matters to my organization is a price tag.  Enemies, strangers, friends...none of it means anything.”</p><p> </p><p>When she speaks, it is with the same matter-of-fact tone that she says most things in.  It is neither angry nor defensive, and lacks any sort of iciness her tone would have if she were upset by the question.  She’s stating facts, as if they are the simplest thing in the world.  And they are.  Amami maintains a twisted sort of look on his face that Harukawa finds unnerving and weird.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you looking at me like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got a weird look on your face,” Harukawa says.  “It’s gross.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gross?  I don’t mean to be gross.  I guess I’m just...in disbelief.”</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa shrugs.  “It’s just how the world is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not for most people,” Amami says with a frown, and it feels like he’s looking through her again, but in a different way than before.  She shifts her weight in discomfort.  Part of her itches to say something, to ask why he’s looking at her like that, to tell him to <em> knock it off, </em> but instead she places her chopsticks onto her clean plate as if it never really bothered her in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve finished eating.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” Amami says, looking down at her plate.  “You have.”  He smiles again, but he almost looks sad as he does it.  “I can take the plate back for you if you’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>“If that’s what you want,” she says, and hands it to him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” Amami says, heading over to the door.  “Unless you’ll come to breakfast?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to breakfast.  And you don’t need to come.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I’ll see you here tomorrow,” he says breezily, smiling.  “Good night, Harukawa.”</p><p> </p><p>She scowls, waving him off.</p><p> </p><p>He grants her one last airy laugh as he leaves the room, breathless and wistful, and the last taste of fresh air until the door closes.  When it shuts, it traps her once more in the stagnant, unchanging air of the lab, with its neon hospital-esque lights glowing at all hours.  There are no windows, nor any air traffic; there are no indicators of time outside of the morning and evening announcement, and nothing to prove that anything has changed since the moment she found the lab.</p><p> </p><p>But she was unchanging too, wasn’t she?  An object, a weapon, crafted all of those years ago with calloused, rough hands, to create a stream of death and decay everywhere she went.  This lab embodied that, with its fixtures and its dingy lights.  It was suffocating.  Harukawa, for once, finds herself grateful.  In a sense it’s normalcy.  Control, in this situation where one person catching her off guard causes her to lose it all.  Harukawa wouldn’t call herself a control freak by any stretch, but stability was a wonderful thing.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa walks back to the air mattress, placing herself in the same spot where she was before.  She picks the book back up and opens it to where she left off.  It’s nothing fascinating.  Perhaps tomorrow she’ll be done with it, and will move onto the next one.  And so on, and so forth.</p><p> </p><p>Because if she’s not killing, what else is she good for, then?  Nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Harukawa Maki is an assassin.  Nothing else.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>At the very least, Ouma has the decency to knock.</p><p> </p><p>“Yoo-hoo!  Slutbag!” he calls as he enters the room.  “You need to do something for me!”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma is in her lab, because of course she is.  Where else would she be, this late at night?  Or in general, really.  Iruma squeals at his words, which helps him to locate her, and he bounds right on over to the other side of the table.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell are you doing in here?” Iruma spits.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I made that relatively clear,” Ouma says with a laugh.  “You’re gonna make something for me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Like hell I am!  You should be groveling at my feet!”  Iruma cackles.  “Get down on your knees and beg the gorgeous girl genius and I might consider it!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma rolls his eyes and sighs.  “Whatever, you filthy slut.  Can’t even take a request without getting off?  Here I thought you might actually be useful, but you just live to disappoint!”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma moans in disarray, and it’s a little weird.  Maybe a little more than a little weird.  But some things, in Ouma’s opinion, were worth the torture.</p><p> </p><p>“Eek!  I’m s-sorry!”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe quit running your mouth and get it done!  I’ll consider forgiving you then.”  He smiles as he tosses the blueprints on the table.  They slide when they land, just a bit, in her direction, and she pushes aside whatever fucked up horny feelings she has from the exchange to look at them.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you make it?”</p><p> </p><p>She scoffs.  “Of course I can fucking make it.  Who do you think you’re talking to?”  She picks up one of the blueprints, examining it a bit closer, and frowns.  “What is this?  Why do you even need this?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a present for Gonta!”</p><p> </p><p>Iruma tears her eyes away from the paper to stare at him in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“That was a lie, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” she grumbles, returning to the paper.  “I can get this done in a few days.  Does that work for you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure thing!”</p><p> </p><p>“But I’ll only do it on one condition.”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma clicks his tongue.  “I’ll just kill you if you don’t do it, you know?  I’ll also kill you if you tell anyone about it or this conversation.”</p><p> </p><p>That stuns Iruma; the fear is visible on her face when she looks to him.  She’s got the vibes of a scared rabbit, shirking into the bushes to avoid any contact with other, stranger animals.  She always looks a little bit like that, though, when she’s not pretending to be a haughty bitch.  Faintly, Ouma wonders if this is another kink of hers.  Disgusting.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I…” Iruma trails off, swallowing thickly as she tries to stop her body from shaking.  “I want to know what it is.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“T-Then I won’t make it!”  she declares.  “A-And if you try and kill me I’ll scream really loudly!  I-I’ll get Keebo to use his robot enhancements!”</p><p> </p><p>Ouma raises an eyebrow.  “He has robot enhancements?”</p><p> </p><p>“M-Maybe!  You’ll never know!  Until he blasts your fuckin’ dick off!”</p><p> </p><p>“Right, whatever.”  Ouma turns to leave.  “It’s nothing crazy.  Just a bug catcher.”</p><p> </p><p>“A…” Iruma loses the anxious edge from before.  “A bug catcher?”</p><p> </p><p>“More like a vacuum,” Ouma amends, “but yeah.  It’s meant to catch bugs.”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t seen any bugs!”</p><p> </p><p>When Ouma turns around, it’s in the doorway, and with a dastardly smirk on his face.  The sight of it, and the eye contact, makes Iruma flinch backwards, and Ouma relishes the power.  He raises a single finger to point at his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you should look harder.”</p><p> </p><p>With those words, he exits the room, swinging the door open and slamming it shut behind him.</p><p> </p><p>---</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey pals i'm back!! did my best to update in time for her birthday, hope it didn't come out too choppy.<br/>thank you so much for all of the support so far! i wasn't sure if anyone was gonna read this so it's been great to see people enjoying this.  love u all &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>